


Please, See Me

by tokenMWM



Series: I See You [1]
Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, Fluff, Freeform, Gay Cyrus Goodman, M/M, Mutual Pining, Personal Growth, Slow Burn, Teenage Drama, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-08-20 21:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 83,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16563830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokenMWM/pseuds/tokenMWM
Summary: I, Cyrus Goodman, love my friends. Really, I do. But sometimes, I can’t help but feel like I’m just a side-character. Unimportant, playing second fiddle to whatever is going on in their lives that day. Is it really so bad to want someone who makes me feel like I’m the main character for once? What would my life be like if it was finally about... me?





	1. A Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus gets sick of Andi's complaining and insensitivity, so he has to get away for a while.

It’s not that I didn’t understand what Andi was going through. The problem was that I did. All too well.

It had been a day. A long day. Much longer than I had mentally prepared for, and I hadn’t exactly expected rainbows and butterflies.

This wasn't my first Saturday spent alone with Andi; in fact, it was the third weekend in a row I’d had to split between two best friends who refused to be in the same room as each other. It was like that first year after my parents’ divorce all over again. Back to being passed back and forth so that both sides got me equally, but never together. It’s like a big game of hot potato and I always seem to end up the unlucky spud.

And I hated it. 

I really tried to hide it from Andi and Buffy, but I hated the whole situation so much. I had spent all month trying to keep that sickening feeling buried deep down inside as it boiled away in my stomach. Until this afternoon, I had been successful.

But today had been different. Today, instead of doing everything I could to keep Andi from thinking about Buffy and Walker, I slipped. I brought up a movie I had seen with the couple last weekend—I honestly forgot Andi hadn’t been there—and that was all it took. The day went from being about snacks and crafts to being all about Buffy, and her ‘betrayal.’

Unfortunately, it turns out that after 3 weeks of stress and 6 hours of listening to Andi complain with circular logic... I reached my breaking point. That, apparently, was when I became too tired to keep up the group psychiatrist persona I’d been inhabiting all month. And it happened at the worst possible time, too. Right when Andi started up a brand new tirade against our other best friend.

“I just can’t believe someone I thought was my friend would do this!” Andi was sitting on her bed, surrounded by forgotten pieces of felt and stuffing, and admittedly looking as upset as she sounded.

“Andi—”

“No, Cy, please don’t defend her to me.” I had been trying to derail this train of thought for ages, but she never let me get more than one or two words out at a time. Honestly, it was starting to put a strain on my patience. “She knows I’m hurting but she’s still dating him! And! And she talked about me with Walker behind my back! Cyrus, how am I supposed to trust Buffy when she doesn’t even seem to care that she broke the ultimate friend code!”

I wanted to mention that Buffy had tried every day for two weeks to talk to Andi. I wanted to point out that Andi would end up feeling guilty if Buffy actually broke up with Walker because of her. I wanted to get any of the words out to tell her I was tired of hearing her endless complaining with no attempts to fix the issue. But I didn’t. I couldn't find the energy or patience to bring any of those up. Instead, my brain hooked onto that last part, and refused to let go.

“Friend code?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah, Cy, you know. The general rules of friendship? Like, don't be friends with your friend's enemy? Don't talk about schoolwork with a friend's parents! And most important, don't betray your best friend for a boy!” Andi looked confused by my confusion. More likely, she was just upset by my lack of vocal support for her point.

“What are you talking about, Andi?" I was starting to get exasperated with Andi's over-exaggerating. "Buffy would never—”

“She knew that Walker... she knew that I liked Walker. You know she did, Cyrus, you were there when we talked about it.” Andi was getting even more upset, which was the opposite of my goal. I thought I knew where her rant was going, and part of me knew that I should stop her before she got there. But it was also like a part of me—one that I was unfamiliar with—Was eagerly waiting for... something.

I felt adrenaline start pumping through my body, but it didn’t feel like anxiety, or fear. It felt like...

I hate this. I hate all of this. I hate it.

“Andi don’t you—”

“She didn’t even ask me, Cyrus. She must have known she liked Walker for a while, but she hid it from me until it was too late. A true friend would have asked me, would have called me up and said, ‘Hey, I like Walker,’” Andi put on a bad imitation of Buffy’s voice, “‘with his stupid hair stripe and drawings and... And I think he likes me. But I know you like him too, so before anything happens: are you, my best friend, okay with me dating him?’”

I stayed silent. Not because I didn’t know what she was going through, but because I did. I didn’t say anything as she kept talking.

“If she had at least done that, I could believe she cared about my feelings. Cared about our friendship! At least as much as she cared about going on dates with some boy.”

She was done for the moment; her voice was much softer and weaker as she finished her rant, like she was getting tired. I looked up and saw a girl who was drained and hurt and almost in tears. So I waited for that watery, loving feeling to well up inside me and do what it always did: convince me to reach up and assure her that Buffy did care, that Buffy loved her.

And a moment passed.

And I waited some more.

But that everpresent feeling of friendship never appeared. Instead, something new bubbled up inside me. Something fiery and hot and... angry. Suddenly, comforting Andi wasn’t the most important thing in my mind.

I felt fired up. I wanted to say something to comfort myself, for a change. Say something I didn’t realize I had been keeping locked down inside myself until just that moment.

“What about Jonah?” My voice was softer than I expected as I broke the silence. Much softer than the storm roiling through my head.

“Jonah? Wait, what about Jonah? What, does she like him too? Well—”

“No!” My voice came out a bit louder. Loud enough to get her to finally stop talking over me. “I... I liked Jonah.”

“Yeah but... Cy, that’s different.” I tried to see if there was understanding in her eyes, but I only saw confusion. And that just made the fire inside me grow stronger.

“Why? Why is it different! I liked Jonah, Andi. You knew I did, I told you at my Bar Mitzvah, with Buffy there and everything.” I could feel warm tears pushing at my eyes as my voice grew even louder. The unfamiliar flames crackling in my chest urged me to continue. “I told you so you would know you weren’t alone, remember?”

“Yeah, of course I remember, Cy...” Andi’s voice was softer now, like maybe she knew what I was going to say but didn’t know how to stop me. Like she was scared. I needed to continue, though. I may not have known I had these words inside me, but now that I’d started I couldnt stop myself if I wanted to.

And strangely enough, I didn’t want to.

“I thought it was something that would help us get closer to each other, that we liked the same dumb boy who hurt us without even realizing it,” my voice was too loud now, and I was thankful no one else was around to hear it crack and falter. “But we never talked about it after that, did we? Instead, it seemed like the next thing I knew, you were dating Jonah, kissing him in front of me, asking my help to fix your relationship problems...”

I took a deep breath. I thought I heard Andi take one too, but by then I couldn't see clearly.

“But you never asked me if I was okay. With any of it. Not once.”

“I... Cyrus...” Andi’s voice cracked as I stood up, grabbing my phone and bag from the chair beside me.

“What?” I could feel that fire still burning in my throat as I started to move. “Tell me, Andi. Why was that different? Was it because you weren’t the one on the receiving end that time? Or was it ‘cause you assumed I didn’t have a chance?” I tripped on my way to the door and found myself cursing my lack of coordination for the millionth time that week. 

“That’s not...” I heard Andi start to get up from her bed behind me. But I didn't want her to follow me, and I didnt want her to stop me.

“Or is it because...” my throat dried up as I paused in her door for just long enough to hear her stop moving.

I think we both knew how I was going to finish that sentence. Or maybe neither of us did.

I slammed the door behind me as I ran from her apartment.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The message notifications started the second I rounded the corner, as Andi’s apartment slid from view. 

Dont look at them.

Don’t think about them.

What you’re feeling is valid.

The words echoed through my head like a mantra as I walked mindlessly through the world. I didn't want to be home, because home meant parents, and parents meant too many questions. I didn’t want to go to The Spoon, either; the chance was too high to see someone from school. I didn’t want to go anywhere. I didn’t want to be anywhere.

I ended up at the swingset in the park.

I dropped my bag and fell into the swing before I even realized what I was doing.

My phone chimed again. Reluctantly, I pulled the buzzing device out of my pocket. Twenty messages from Andi. Two from Buffy. I ignored them all, choosing instead to send my Dad a message saying I was at the park and I’d make my way home later. Then, before I could hear another chime, I turned the phone off and slipped it into my bag to finally get some silence.

Not that silence was especially great either.

Silence left me with my thoughts, and my thoughts were... well, let’s just say that anxiety, emotional outbursts, and isolation don’t exactly mix well. But it was still favorable to hearing my phone buzz every thirty seconds.

The temperature dropped as I sat there, and I started to regret not wearing a jacket. Still, I felt more comfortable staying put on the swing, even as the dusk seemed to settle around me like a blanket of frost. I wasn't even doing any actual swinging, but something about being held up above the ground like that made me feel a modicum of peace. It let my mind unfocus. And as I sat there, I slowly—very, very slowly—started to feel the storm boiling inside me calm down.

For, like, half a second.

“Someone looks like they’re having a bad day.”

I was violently startled out of my thoughts by the sudden intrusion of a familiar voice. So startled that I actually jumped, and suddenly there was no swing supporting my body. With an embarrassing yelp, I fell onto my back in the sand below me.

“Oh, shi—shoot! Underdog! Are you okay?”

I heard the sand shift as TJ fell to his knees above my head, but it was tough to focus on anything other than the pain radiating from my lower back.

So much pain.

Okay, once my heart calmed down, it was pretty obvious that it wasn’t that bad. Probably not even a bruise, if I was lucky—not that I was feeling lucky. But still, it was just the painful cherry on top of an already upsetting day.

Slowly, I let my eyes open until I could take in the full vision of a fretting, upside down TJ hovering above me.

“Did you stop yourself mid-swear?” I still hadn’t moved from my spot under the swing, but TJ’s anxious face started to relax. And seeing that helped me feel a bit more relaxed as well. And then, as if there had never been a worrying frown at all, TJ was smirking at me and offering a hand as he jumped to his feet.

“Well yeah, Underdog. After you gave me a frickin’ lecture on swearing last week,” I grunted as he pulled me up to standing, struggling not to fall into his chest as the sudden momentum caught me off guard. 

“I think this may have been one of those times where it would be appropriate. Maybe.” I tried to give him a quick smile but it was a bit of a struggle to get my lips to do it.

“Damn. I missed my chance. Are you hurt anywhere?” TJ darted behind me as I glared at him, poking my head a few times and helping brush some of the sand off my back. As he poked and prodded me, I brought my hand to press against my tailbone and winced.

“Hurt, but not broken. I told you swings were dangerous," I said, doing my best to sound completely earnest.

“Well yeah,” TJ stepped back around me to lean against the support pole for the swingset, “everything’s dangerous if you’re completely oblivious to the world around you.”

“Oblivious,” I let out an obviously fake laugh, “what’re you talking about?”

“I’d been calling your name since I was halfway across the park, Underdog.” TJ stepped forward, getting much closer than necessary to tap at one of my ears before letting his arm fall to his side. “I thought you had earbuds in, or something, 'til I got up close. But nope, you were either ignoring me, or you had something big on your mind. And I know you could never ignore me,” I just knew he had the biggest, cockiest grin on his face as he said that.

This close to each other, I had to tilt my head back an obnoxious amount to be able to see TJ’s smile. I should probably have taken a step back, or something.

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” I admitted.

Suddenly, a ferocious gust of wind blew around the two of us and I realized just how cold I actually was with the sun hidden behind the trees. I crossed my arms over my chest and did my best to suppress a shiver.

“Hmm," TJ bent down so we were eye to eye. "If I give you my hoodie, will you tell me what the big bad thing you were thinkin’ about was?”

I eyed TJ’s face skeptically, trying to figure out what was going on in his head. But who am I kidding, I’ve never been able to figure out TJ’s motivations. I couldn’t even figure out why he wanted to be friends with me. The only time I seemed to know what TJ Kippen was thinking was when he was sad, and I'd much rather he be a happy mystery than a sad open book.

“What are you even doing out here? How did you find me?” I asked, instead of acknowledging him.

“Nuh-uh,” TJ’s smirk grew even larger and I could have sworn I saw his eyes sparkle in the dying light, “you’re not avoiding my question that easy, Underdog.”

I sighed. It looked like the blond was in one of his cocky moods, and there wasn’t much I could do to distract him if that was the case. Another gust of wind whipped past, and as the cold seeped into my bones I could practically see the warmth radiating from TJ’s jacket.

“It’s... complicated,” I muttered, turning away so I wouldn't have to look him in the eye.

“Ugh!” I heard a zipper being pulled as TJ muttered to himself in frustration, and—like a gift from angels—felt the soft fabric of a hoodie being draped over my shoulders.

It was incredibly warm. Remarkably warm. And incredibly soft. Remarkably soft. I couldn't stop myself from pulling it tighter around my freezing torso.

“There, now you have to tell me,” TJ grinned as he reached forward to better adjust the hoodie around my shivering frame. I lost no time shoving my arms through the jacket and zipping it all the way up to my neck. My body was not made for cold weather; I was clearly made for a place like California, or Hawaii. Maybe then I could finally get a tan.

“Can I just say it’s a combination of the Buffy-and-Andi drama of the last few weeks and...” I looked away from his face again, “my stuff, and leave it at that?”

TJ stayed notably silent after I said that, and in the dim light of the quiet dusk I became fully aware of how close we had gotten. Physically close, I mean. At this point, we were practically chest-to-chest, and TJ kept reaching forward and readjusting the way his oversized hoodie was resting on my smaller frame. I felt another shiver race through my body as his hand brushed lightly against my neck while he readjusted the hood.

“Your stuff?” He muttered quietly, and I nodded. ‘Stuff,’ our common code word for ‘something important and maybe scary that I don’t know how to talk about.’ The look on TJ’s face was serious, and I realized I missed his goofy smirk.

“Like, uh... like the bigger stuff. The biggest stuff, really. Like, whew, everything else has been, uh, small potatoes compared to... yeah.” I tried to swallow despite my throat suddenly feeling very dry. You see, Andi and Buffy were the only people who knew I was gay, and the thought of talking about that with one of my only two male friends was...

Yeah.

I could feel my cheeks heat up as TJ continued to stare down at me. This was more than I knew how to handle. This whole day was too much.

“Sounds... big,” I was surprised to hear the boys’ basketball captain sound... wistful. But then, in the blink of an eye, his grin was back and his arm was wrapped around my shoulder. Before I realized what was happening, he started walking us away from the swings, leaning down to grab my bag on the way.

“I didn’t realize you were keepin’ something that big from me, Underdog.” That smile was back and I couldn’t help but find it infectious.

“You know me,” I said, still a little shaky, “Hidden depths and stuff. Gonna have to swim through a lot to, uh... see the bottom. Alright I feel like that metaphor got away from me.”

TJ’s boistrous laugh rang out, and for the first time since I’d ran from Andi’s apartment, I began to feel a genuine giggle bubbling up in my own chest.

I realized with a smile that he was directing us towards the park exit closest to my Dad’s house. I’m not sure how, but over the past month, TJ had gained the uncanny ability to know which parents I’d be staying with. Sometimes I thought he’d hacked my phone Calendar.

“Well, this is where I leave you," TJ said with an exaggerated sigh. "I’d walk you all the way, but if I don't head back now my Mom will start asking questions.”

“Oh, shoot, yeah. What time is it?” I started digging through my bag for my phone but the sun just finished setting, and the street lights weren’t very bright.

“Let’s just say you should probably hurry home too, Underdog,” TJ said with a light laugh. I couldn't help but smile back at him.

“Thanks, Not-So-Scary... I mean, TJ. Thanks for... just, thanks.” I could feel another blush rising to my cheeks and I was thankful for the limited light hiding my embarrassment. Wait, why was I embarrassed? What was with all this blushing, I mean, it was getting ridiculous.

“Hey, us bad boys gotta look out for each other!” TJ chuckled, pointing at me with some snappy finger guns before turning to head the other way.

“Oh! Hey, wait! Your jacket!” I looked down to undo the zipper but was surprised when TJ’s hand shot out and grabbed hold of mine to stop me.

“Keep it. For now." TJ was looking at me with a soft smile, and my blush was not dissipating so I looked down again. "I’ll keep warm by jogging home. You can give it back at school.” I felt the athlete's hand slowly pry mine away from the zipper, and looked up to see the older boy smiling wide. For half a second, I almost thought I felt him give my hand a squeeze.

“Besides,” he took a small step back, still holding onto my hand before letting it go a second later as he acted like he was appraising me. “It looks good on you, Underdog.”

And with that, he turned and jogged away, into the darkness of the park.

Well. That sure was... a day.

A very weird day.

I squeezed my hand into a fist, the one TJ had been holding on to just a few seconds earlier.

Maybe... maybe it had even been a good day.


	2. Peace and Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus's long day isn't over yet. And unfortunately, the consequences start at home.

Did I have any idea what time it was when I got home? 

No.

If I’d known that, I may have been able to answer my Dad after he heard me close the front door as quietly as I could. Not that it really mattered what the answer was. It was very obviously not that kind of question.

What time did I get home?

Too late to be outside, all alone, and not answering my phone.

“I don’t know what to say, Cyrus, you know better than to worry us like that. What were you thinking, my son?” My Dad was in the middle of setting the table for dinner, but he paused to glance at me with a stern look. Despite his calm, measured, and very psychiatrist-sounding tone of voice, I felt a pit growing in my stomach. My fingers started playing with the frayed hem of TJ’s hoodie and I found myself wishing the jock had walked me all the way home after all. He was the kind of guy who could always come up with a reasonable sounding response when adults asked these non-question questions.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” my voice cracked a bit as I walked into the dining room. “I was just at the park and, uh… I lost track of time. I didn’t even realize the sun was setting until, well, until it was almost dark.”

“Is that an excuse I hear, my son?” my Dad asked as he set down the last plate and turned to grab a stack of glasses.

“No. I mean, no sir. I was just… trying to explain what the situation was. I really am sorry, Dad. I promise it won’t happen again.” I looked down at the floor, hoping I looked as apologetic as I felt. Being under my Dad's disapproval was not something I had a lot of experience with.

“Yes, I’m sure it won’t. Would you like to explain why it is that your phone was off, as well? I’m sure it’s not because you were careless enough to let it run out of battery.” That was a thing my Dad always did, preempting the most likely lie he could think of before I made the mistake of trying to use it. I guess that’s probably why I never got much experience stretching the truth.

“No, sir. I… I turned it off. I just wanted some, you know, peace and quiet.” My voice trailed off into barely a whisper as I spoke. “Sorry.”

“And what, my son, was so loud that it forced you to take that particularly drastic step? Lord knows it’s hard enough to get you to put the thing down when you’re around the house.” He laughed a bit to himself as he busied his hands setting down silverware and adjusting the napkins, but my heart started beating faster as he spoke. I didn’t want to talk about that, please.

“It’s complicated...” It hadn’t worked on TJ, but I had to hope it might work with my family.

My Dad paused for a second before sighing. “Well then, I suppose you don’t want to say any more about that particular subject, son?”

I shook my head. He paused for a few more seconds before nodding.

“We shall leave it at that, then. Still, I think your actions deserve some consequences, no?” 

I nodded with a sigh, already guessing where he was going. I certainly tried my best to avoid punishments—or ‘consequences’ as my Dad always put it—as much as possible, but it happened enough for me to know how my parents thought.

“Your phone, Cyrus.” He held out a hand as my Stepmom walked out of the kitchen carrying a lemon-scented roast chicken. Without complaining I dug my phone out of my bag and handed it over. “You can have it back before school on Monday.”

“Monday?!” I coughed out, suddenly a lot less happy with this result. I hadn’t planned on leaving Andi and Buffy hanging for that long! “Wait, can I just—”

“Monday, son,” my Dad said patiently as he slipped my phone into his back pocket. “I’m sure you can survive thirty-six hours without it. Maybe you’ll be able to enjoy that peace and quiet you were looking for.”

“But—“ He eyed me, making it clear he wasn't looking to argue. I let my arm fall to my side, defeated. “Yes, sir...”

“I hope you will use this time to recall that your mother and I bought this for you so that we can keep tabs on you as we trust you more age-appropriate freedom. Not just so that you could be in constant contact with your friends.”

“Oh, don’t lecture him, dear. He gets the picture, don’t you, Cy?” My Stepmom passed between us as she went to get a plate of green beans.

“Um... yeah,” I rubbed the back of my neck and did my best to put on a smile. As the stress of the conversation was starting to subside I was beginning to realize just how tired I felt. And how hungry. I felt like I could eat a horse and then sleep for days.

“Good, now, that unpleasant business is all done with. So none of this awkwardness at the dinner table, okay boys? Cyrus, why don’t you go clean up while your father gets your plate ready?” Her chipper attitude seemed a little out of place, but it did the trick in dissipating the uncomfortable atmosphere in the room. 

I nodded quietly before heading to the bathroom. I had to roll the sleeves of TJ’s hoodie three times before I could be sure they wouldn’t fall into the water as I washed my hands. It’s ridiculously unfair that we could have such a drastic size difference with just one year of age between us, and I entertained myself with that thought as I got ready for dinner.

It was enraging in a much more pleasant way than the rest of my day had been.

After dinner and a shower, the pull of my bed was even more alluring than usual. I wasted no time in grabbing a pair of dinosaur pajama bottoms, but as I dug through the drawer for the matching shirt, I thought of something better.

Who needs a pajama top when you have the world’s most comfortable—and warmest—hoodie?

And if it still smelled slightly of fresh cut grass, cinnamon, and something unidentifiable but equally pleasant...

Well, that’s just extra.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A day without a phone pretty much left me with two options. Doing homework, or obsessing about the fact that, without my phone, my social life was probably self-destructing as I sat there unable to do a thing about it.

So, homework won.

And really I should be thankful that one day was the extent of my punishment. And that’s exactly what I kept telling myself every time my mind wandered off the ancient Roman History packet, and onto what Andi and Buffy might be thinking as I apparently ignored their sure-to-be-multitude of messages and calls.

Yeah. Thankful.

Luckily, History was distracting.

And so, I spent my day in the living room, dutifully scratching answers to History, then Math, and then English questions as my Dad did work around the house. My Stepmom had left early in the morning to drive to some convention, or expo or something. Something with dozens, if not hundreds of psychiatrists in one place; I shuddered at the thought. Four psychiatrists in the shape of my parents was more than enough, thank you very much.

But, yes. I was perfectly happy being the good, responsible child, and focusing on my studies. How else would I get into an Ivy League college of my dreams?

And then the doorbell rang.

Oh, thank god, a distraction.

I sprinted from the living room to get to the door first. I didn't care if it was Old Miss Jancy coming to complain about my Dad's rose bushes again, I was desperate. I hadn't gone this long without talking to a non-family member in almost a year.

But it wasn't Old Miss Jancy.

"Hey there, Underdog. Excited to see me, or somethin'?" TJ's joke caught me off guard as I yanked the door open to reveal the jock standing on my front porch.

"TJ!" my voice cracked a little. "What are... you're here," I grinned up at him, trying to get my heart to calm down. "Why are you here? I—I mean, what's up? How's it hanging? Something... going on?" I crossed my arms and leaned against the front door, doing my best to look cool and collected. Unfortunately, the door continued to swing and I almost fell on my face.

"Woah there, I got ya' Underdog," TJ stepped forward in a flash to keep me from falling. I tried to laugh it off.

"Uh... thanks. So, um, yeah! What's up, Teej?" I put extra emphasis on the new nickname, trying to gauge his response. Seeing the look on his face, I decided to hold that one back for a little bit longer.

"Was just making sure you made it home safe and sound last night, Underdog. I didn't hear about any kidnappings or anything, but... you weren't answering any of my messages, either." He held up his phone, waving it in the air.

"Oh! Whoops! Yeah, sorry. Safe and sound. Just got, well, sorta grounded. For being out late with my phone off..."

"Correction," my Dad called from where he was picking weeds in the front yard. "Cyrus is not grounded, he just had his phone taken away for the day." I shrugged at the boy in front of me as my Dad busied himself with weeds again.

"Well yeah, that's true," I said, pushing open the door behind me and inviting TJ inside. "But it still feels like I'm grounded," I whispered, making sure my dad didn't overhear.

"Seriously, dude? You couldn't have gotten home much later than..." he looked like he was doing some math in his head, waving his fingers in the air as he thought it out, "seven? Seven o' clock? You got your phone taken away for that?"

"Well, yeah," I muttered, feeling a little sheepish. "Seven is pretty late for me. Usually, I have to be home by five unless my parents know exactly where I am, and who I'm with, and they approved it ahead of time." I was counting off my rules on my fingers as I fell into the couch in the living room. "Why, how late can you stay out?"

"It's pretty much fine as long as I get home by, like, eight. I don't have a specific time, it's more just a feeling based on what kind of mood my parents are in." TJ fell onto the couch beside me, flashing me a smirk as he fluffed one of the pillows in his lap.

"That's lucky. I don't think I'll get that kind of freedom until I'm, like, an adult or something," I took the chance to really look over the boy sitting next to me. He definitely looked like he would be able to handle himself in the world better than me. I mean, he had actual muscles, and was as tall as most adults. Compared to me he looked as tough as a bodyguard or something. It made sense that he had more freedom.

"Yeah, your parents are sorta crazy overprotective." As soon as the words left his mouth, TJ's eyes went wide and he whipped around like he was looking for something. He only relaxed once he realized there was no one else in the house. “I don’t know how you deal.”

"Yeah... I mean, I would probably be overprotective, too, if I had a kid like..." I motioned to myself.

"Hey, don't be so tough on yourself, Underdog," TJ leaned forward and grabbed onto my shoulder, giving it a not-quite-painful squeeze. "It's not like you're completely hopeless!" He laughed, falling back into his corner of the couch. I had to keep myself from reaching up and rubbing my shoulder.

"Thanks, I think." I wondered again what TJ was doing, showing up at my house. It wasn't like he hadn't been here before, but it had only been, like, two times—and that was just as a meeting place before heading out elsewhere. It definitely wasn't a normal thing, especially not uninvited. Not that I was complaining.

Nope, no complaints here.

We both stayed quiet for a few seconds. I wasn't really sure what to say; I hadn't mentally prepared for the possibility of a random TJ visit at all. I was going to have to start doing that if this became a regular thing. At the same time, TJ was starting to fiddle with the pillow on his lap, not quite looking at me.

Crap, was I being a bad host? I had no idea what to talk about!

After a few more seconds, TJ shot up from the couch and started examining the bookcase across the room. As I started to get up to follow him, he finally broke the silence.

"So what have you been doing all day without your phone? I'm not sure what I'd do." His surprisingly long fingers were tracing the shelf as he walked along the wall. "Damn," he muttered, before shooting a look over his shoulder. "I mean, dang. This is a lot of books on how kids think."

"Well yeah, my Dad's a child psychiatrist, and my Stepmom is a family psychiatrist. And my Mom is a psychiatrist for old people. And my Stepdad is a psychiatrist for... everyone, I guess. His specialty has never been clear to me." I walked over until I was right next to him in front of the shelf.

"That's a lotta people to have in your head, Underdog." He looked amazed, and maybe a little intimidated by the large bookshelf covering the entire wall.

"Yeah, well... that's my life!" I shrugged, trying to sound chipper. "As for what I've been doing all day: just homework, to be honest. Couldn't really think of anything else."

TJ knelt down to the bottom shelf. Below the tomes of psychiatric knowledge, there was a single shelf of Disney VHS movies my parents had collected for me since I was born. The blond turned back to me with a grin.

"Wanna watch a movie? Or do you still have homework to do?" He stood up, holding the box for Hercules in his hand.

"Huh? Oh no, I'm, like, a week ahead on homework after today." I laughed for a second but felt my heart rate starting to speed up as I continued. "Um, a movie? Yeah, sure, yeah that sounds, um, great. Let’s do it!" I had no idea what was going on. This whole getting-flustered-around-TJ thing was new, and I'm not sure I liked it.

But I definitely like the idea of a movie. Anything was better than sitting in silence and staring at unfinished homework assignments.

"Do you even have a TV that can play one of these?" TJ mused, prying open the box to pull out the bulky VHS inside.

"Just one," I laughed, before my heart sped up even more I realized what was about to happen. "Up in my room..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days? How long can I keep up the breakneck pace?!
> 
> Not very long. Sorry.


	3. I Won't Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's movie time. And talking time. Which is the best time, as long as you don't have anxiety issues.

"Holy crap, is this you Underdog?" I turned, already halfway up the stairs, wondering what TJ could possibly be talking about when I froze. The other boy was a few steps behind me, staring at the wall with a huge smile on his face. Except he wasn't staring at the wall, he was staring at one of the pictures my dad had put up when we had first moved into this house.

Oh no.

"Oh," I forced out a laugh and reached out for TJ's arm. "Yeah, that—we don't need to talk about that!" With all the strength I could muster, I was able to start dragging TJ up the stairs and away from my embarrassment.

"What's wrong," he laughed, pretending to resist as I pulled him behind me. "Was that for Halloween? How old were you? What—"

"Nope, nuh-uh," I reached out with my other hand to cover his mouth as we reached the second floor landing, "let's just forget you ever saw that. And I will beg my Dad to take that down for the millionth time, and maybe this time he'll listen to me." 

I felt something wet and warm push against my fingers and reflexively withdrew my hand back to my side. TJ's tongue stuck out for a few seconds more before he pulled it back in and proceeded to grin at me with a devilish look in his eyes.

"Aw, c'mon Underdog, don't be embarrassed. You looked so cute—!" I felt more blood rush to my face even as TJ's mouth snapped shut and his eyes went wide. The idea of looking TJ in the eye at that moment was overwhelming, so I looked around the hallway we were standing in instead. Yup, it sure looked like it always did. Same dark blue paint, same neatly spaced family photos littering the wall.

Each one another potential source of shame.

Each one a potential source of TJ saying the word 'cute' in reference to me. Was that a thing? Surely that wasn't something I needed to be thinking about. It was just... a weird weekend, right? I mean, I just wasn’t used to hearing another boy say anything about me was cute. Combine that with all the overwhelming emotions I'd been dealing with since I'd left Andi's apartment, plus all those unpredictable teenage hormones flowing through my veins, of course I was feeling weird. Surely that's got to be the reason behind all the blushing and stuttering and overall feeling of being flustered.

It certainly had nothing to do with TJ.

It certainly had nothing to do with TJ saying I looked cute, even if he was talking about six-year-old me, wearing a—

TJ coughed and held up the VHS. "So... Hercules?"

"Right! Um, yeah. Right." Shaking my head to dissipate those emotion-and-hormone-driven thoughts, I flashed TJ the best smile I could muster and began walking to my room.

My room wasn't the most notable place in the world. It wasn't decorated with handmade crafts, like Andi's room; nor, obviously, did I have a shelf of trophies on the wall like Buffy. In fact, since most of my personal stuff was split evenly between my two parents, it was pretty plain. An unmade twin-sized bed pushed into one of the corners made room for the three bookshelves and a desk that took up the rest of the wall space. I had a few dinosaur models on top of the bookshelves, and some pictures of Andi, Buffy, and myself taped to the mirror on the closet door, but otherwise, it could have belonged to anyone. Even the paint color was just the same as the rest of the upstairs.

"Nice place," TJ said in passing as he did a quick walk around the perimeter before stopping at the corner opposite my bed, where a TV was hanging from the wall above a bookshelf. "Where's the uh... the player for this thing?" He asked, standing on his tip toes to try to examine the flat screen.

"Oh, no, that's my normal TV, for like video games and, uh, TV, I guess. Here," I opened the closet door and started digging through my pile of dirty laundry until my hands hit something blocky and heavy. "This is the one that plays VHS."

With a grunt of effort, I pulled the blocky, old-fashioned device out of the bottom of my closet. It wasn't big, the screen was maybe fourteen inches, but I swear the thing weighed almost as much as me. When he noticed me struggling, TJ bounded over to help me lug the beast of a box onto the end of my bed. I tried not to notice that he didn't seem to be struggling at all with the weight.

"How old is this thing?" TJ wondered aloud as I tugged the too-short cord until it reached the nearest electrical socket.

"I think older than me. My Dad picked it up at a yard sale when I was a kid right after we completely switched over to flatscreens and Blu-ray players. It was probably pretty old then, too." I pressed the power button in the corner and after a worrying pause, the screen lit up and I heard a faint, high-pitched static-y sound. "There we go. Works like a charm."

TJ cheered playfully before setting about closing all my blinds and turning off the lights.

The VHS player was built into the bottom of the TV, so as I focused on adjusting the positioning of the TV to keep it from falling off the end of my bed, I held out my hand for the movie. Instead, I felt TJ grab it tightly and use it for leverage as he clambered up onto the bed beside me. With TJ that close, even as he dropped my hand to pry open the movie box I could feel my cheeks heating up again. Was this to be my fate, for the weekend? Was this my punishment for letting myself get angry? Clearly, my body and my emotions had no idea how to handle themselves anymore.

I shuffled myself back until I was sitting up against the pillows and headboard as TJ pushed the cassette into the TV. For a second, I thought TJ would stay positioned like that on his stomach, face close to the screen, but once the music started playing out of the slightly tinny speakers, he shuffled back to be next to me again. I had never really thought of my bed as small until that moment, as TJ's shoulder and arm pressed firmly against mine and the faint light of the Disney logo was all that illuminated us. I felt hyperaware of that pressure, it was like there was a pinprick of warmth everywhere TJ's body pressed into mine. I noticed it when his legs brushed against mine whenever he readjusted his sitting position. I noticed when he leaned into me a little bit more whenever he laughed at something.

And I didn't hate it.

Growing up, I'm sure most boys watching Hercules had seen themselves in the muscle-bound hero. Listening to TJ's constant comments and remarks as we sat there, that was definitely the case for him. Herc was strong and just wanted to become even stronger and do impressive and Good things with that strength. But I never could see myself as that greek demi-god. And yes, I can admit that maybe I should have realized the possibility of my gay-ness a lot earlier than I did. But honestly, I never really saw myself as anyone in Hercules. Maybe Phil, because it always seemed like I ended up the helper or the assistant or the coach. Or the assistant coach.

But now, with all the things that had happened in my life in the past few years, between my parents, and Andi and Buffy, and Jonah... something had changed. Now I could definitely see myself in one of those characters running around on that sort-of-washed-out screen.

Megara.

Or, at least, first half Megara. The 'I don't need no man, I've been hurt before, thanks but no thanks,' Megara. After the disaster that was my first real teenage crush on Jonah Beck, I felt like I knew exactly where she was coming from. Love hurt. And relationships were more trouble than I needed to deal with. Seeing the drama that Buffy, Andi, and even my parents went through made that abundantly clear. And, sure, Meg might have changed her tune with that iconic bop 'Won't Say I'm in Love,' but I was planning on staying strong. At least until I was part-way through high school.

Just as the movie was reaching its climax, my Dad popped his head into my room and I felt TJ quickly shift so that there was a few millimeters of space between us. I refused to let myself feel disappointed by that.

"Good evening, boys. I was wondering what you were up to in here." I reached forward to pause the movie, trying not to be blinded by the light from the hallway. "TJ, will you be joining us for dinner tonight? It's getting dark out, and I was just getting ready to start some pasta."

TJ turned to me for a second before responding, waiting until I nodded. "That sounds great, Mr. Goodman! If it's not too much of a problem, I mean."

I caught my Dad's eyes, and gave him a quick 'please say it's not a problem,' smile. He nodded and started retreating from the room.

"No problem at all! Cyrus's friends are always welcome at the Goodman table." He chuckled a bit before popping his head back in one last time. "Dinner will be ready in about forty minutes. TJ, do you need me to call your parents and let them know?"

"I've got it, Mr. Goodman, thanks," TJ pulled out his phone and started typing a short message.

"Thanks, Dad."

The movie ended without the return of TJ's shoulder pressing against mine. Which was fine. But we still had time after stowing the old TV back in my closet before my Dad called dinner. I fell into the chair at my desk and decided to just watch TJ walk slowly around my room and occasionally make comments when he found something interesting.

"You really like dinosaurs, don't you?" he asked, probably more to himself than to me, as he picked up the allosaurus model I had on one of my shelves.

"Well, yeah," I laughed spinning slowly in my chair. "They're totally hardcore."

"They're totally not hardcore, Underdog. Sorry to say, but extinct things can't be hardcore. I don't make the rules." He held his hands up by his head before putting the model back where he found it.

"What's more hardcore than something that could chase you down and bite you in half without breaking a sweat?”

"Could dinosaurs even sweat?" TJ asked playfully as he moved on to the next bookcase.

"I don't think so, but don't avoid my question!" I jumped up from my chair and picked up the allosaurus model myself. "What do you think is hardcore, then?"

"Kobe Bryant is totally hardcore." TJ laughed at the blank expression I'm sure was on my face. "He's a basketball star, Underdog, c'mon. I know I've mentioned his name to you before." I shrugged. "Oh, and Ninja! The Fortnite guy, not the Naruto dweebs. Totally hardcore."

"Well, I bet Mr. Allosaurus here could stomp these Kobe and Ninja guys into the ground," I roared, mimicking the model stomping two puny humans into the dirt.

"Maybe if he was alive... but he's not. So I win." TJ's laugh and silly victory dance were more than enough to make up for my loss. I didn't even argue as the taller teen went back to sticking his nose into everything around my room.

Eventually, he made it to the mirror on my closet door, and after taking a few seconds to flex and wink at his reflection, I saw his attention get pulled to one of the pictures taped in the corner. It was a recent one, the Good Hair Crew all dressed up for CeCe's Moon Festival party. Jonah was distracted by something out of frame but Andi, Buffy, and I were all wearing big smiles as we stood in Andi's grandma's backyard.

"Are you feeling any better about what was bothering you yesterday?" TJ didn't turn to face me, but I caught his eye in the reflection of the mirror. 

"Not really," I sighed, walking over to peel the picture from my mirror and examine it closely. Who would guess, looking at those smiling faces, that a few days later would be the last time all four of us were in the same non-school-related building together. "The emotions are less intense, now, than they were yesterday. But... I think I'm still upset. And I'm also sort of worried about what happened."

"What did happen?" TJ asked, moving past me to sit on my bed again. "I know you didn't want to talk about it last night. But you know you can always tell me about your... stuff, right? You helped me with my stuff, Underdog; fair is fair."

Fair is fair.

I sighed and jumped up on the bed to sit next to TJ. Even though close proximity with him had been making me tense all day, I knew that I would feel more comfortable saying what I was about to say if I was beside him.

"I sorta... blew up at Andi yesterday. Like, yelled at her and then... stormed out of her house before she could say anything." I flipped the photo over and over in my hands, focusing on the glossy paper.

"You? Blow up at someone? I'm having trouble picturing that," TJ mused. "But wait, what caused it? From what you've said, nothing about the Andi-Buffy-Walker drama has changed or improved or anything in, like, a month."

"It hasn't," I moaned. "That's part of the problem!"

"Did the complaining get too much? Sometimes when my sister is bit—err, whining too much, I just have to leave the room." I felt TJ lean into my shoulder and without really thinking about, I leaned with equal pressure into his.

"That was part of it," I admitted. "But there was more. That's when my stuff... just made everything more complicated." With a deep breath, I set the picture down on the sheets beside me. A soft silence fell between us, one that didn't make me feel at all uncomfortable.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" TJ asked after about a minute of comfortable silence.

"Sort of..." I admitted softly. "I do, but..."

"It's complicated?" TJ offered, turning slightly to face me. I nodded.

Another comfortable silence fell between us for a moment. Because TJ had shifted his body, I found myself leaning almost against his chest, and I could feel him breathing steadily beside me.

"How about you just say what you feel comfortable saying, and I'll promise not to try to dig any deeper?"

"Like when you made me promise not to try to figure out your full name?" I asked, referencing the time he had gone on a sort-of-confusing tirade about how he hated his full name without actually saying what his full name was.

"Exactly," TJ nodded. After a second’s thought, I nodded in return.

"Okay. Let me think...," TJ waited patiently as I thought about how I wanted to explain why I had gotten so upset with Andi without having to explain that we had both liked the same boy, and thus explain that I liked boys. After a few minutes of silence, I nodded again and took a deep breath.

"Have you ever had a disastrous crush?" I asked, focusing on my fingers instead of looking at TJ's face. I wasn't really sure if there was a particular answer I was hoping for, but I couldn't bear waiting for him to respond.

"Um... a disastrous one?" TJ's voice sounded a little... tight as he responded. "No. I don't think so. Guess it depends on what you mean."

"It means one that probably wasn't a very smart crush to develop to begin with, and then, in the end, it just makes things more complicated and everything ends sorta... badly."

TJ didn't say anything for a few seconds, so I decided to just keep moving forward.

"Well, I had one. Earlier this year. And I told Andi about it, eventually. And I guess, um, she sorta ended up not being a very good friend. In relation to the crush, I mean. She's usually a great friend, but for that... not so much." 

"I see..." TJ's voice sounded very measured and a little bit confused. "That sounds... not great."

"It wasn't," I sighed, but kept going. "But my crush ended, and I thought I moved on. I mean, I did move on from the crush," I hated having to be so careful not to use any pronouns or gendered terms, but that was all I felt comfortable with at the moment. "But I thought I also moved on from Andi being a bad friend. It didn't matter anymore, I told myself that I didn't even care. But... I guess I did. Care. And then yesterday Andi just spent all day talking bad about Buffy, and saying how she didn't know how she could ever be friends with someone who..." I chose my words carefully, "was a bad friend about a, um... about a crush. And it was like she was completely ignoring that my old crush had even happened, like it had never been real enough to matter to her. And it hurt. And then what she was saying about Buffy was making me upset too. And... yeah. A few weeks—or maybe months, I guess—of frustration came to a head, and... I blew up. And I sort of regret it."

I caught TJ's eye for a second before sighing, "But also... I sort of don't regret it at all."

TJ stayed quiet for a good while after I finished. Eventually, I stopped leaning on his chest and I let myself actually look at his eyes just as he started to ask, "Did you—" before cutting himself off, as if he thought better of it. Maybe he was going to ask something that broke the rules. I hoped not. That might mean he was guessing at what I was hiding.

I tried to get a read on TJ's face, but, like always, it was like a brick wall. He was clearly thinking about something, and as more time passed in silence, I started to worry more and more that he was thinking exactly what I didn't want him to be thinking. But there was nothing showing on his face, just a small frown and a crease between his eyebrows as he stared at a space a few feet behind my head. But that was just his standard 'deep-thought' face. It wasn't until I let out a nervous cough that he stopped staring off into space and finally seemed to realize that I was looking at him. Immediately, he dropped the serious look on his face and gave me a soft smile.

"I'm sorry, Underdog. That sounds... rough. And it really sucks that it's from your best friend. Are you gonna... be okay?"

Was I? I wasn’t entirely sure. But that didn’t seem like the right thing to say.

When I silently nodded after a few seconds, TJ’s smile widened. And then he did something completely unexpected.

He pulled me into a hug.

"Thanks for trusting me with that, Underdog." I wasn’t sure how to respond as his arms wrapped around my torso pulled me into the warmth of his chest. As I breathed in, I caught the scent of cut-grass, cinnamon, and... TJ that I had appreciated as I'd fallen asleep the night before.

I realized I was just sitting there, hands hanging limply at my sides as I enjoyed TJ’s unexpected hug. And that just wasn’t polite. As I brought my arms up to return the hug with equal vigor, I noticed my something unusual about my heartbeat.

It was incredibly fast.

Ba-bumBa-bumBa-bumBa-bum...

Oh no. Oh nonononono. I could feel my cheeks heating up again as the hug continue long past what I had expected. My heart seemed like it had no plans on calming down, as it excitedly slammed away against my ribcage.

Even as my Dad called up to us to let us know dinner was ready, it was like I was watching myself from above as TJ slowly released the hug and stood up from the bed, asking me if I wanted to race downstairs.

I'm not going to say it.

It can't be true.

I'm not.

Oh, no...

I have a crush on TJ Kippen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the last chapter for a few days, as I'm not going to have free time for... a bit. But it probably won't be more than a week before my next chapter is out.


	4. Skip Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus calls an emergency meeting of the OG GHC to discuss his world-shattering news.

Dinner with TJ and my Dad went fine. I think.

I’m not really sure.

I’m not entirely sure it even happened, to be honest. I sort of just… floated through the whole thing. I laughed, and nodded, and probably even said a few words at the right time. I hope. I really don’t know.

And then the next thing I knew, TJ was saying goodbye to me and my Dad, and then giving me a little half side-hug before saying something about, “See you tomorrow,” and disappearing into the darkness of the night.

I don’t have a crush on TJ Kippen.

I can’t have a crush on TJ Kippen.

Ba-dumBa-dumBa-dum… 

So why is my body telling me that I have a crush on TJ Kippen?

With a quick “Goodnight,” to my Dad, I disappeared into my room and dove face first into one of my pillows.

Buffy. I needed Buffy. But I couldn’t use my phone for another twelve hours and she almost never went on her computer on Sunday nights, and really, what was I going to tell her anyway? I couldn’t tell her that I had a…

That would make it real. And if it was real, then I was just the sad gay boy who always ended up getting crushes on his straight athletic friends, and I did not want to be that guy. I just wanted to… have friends, and be happy, and not have every part of my life made more complicated by the fact that I’m a boy who likes boys.

I already have to deal with worrying about coming out. With worrying about getting hurt, mentally and physically. I have to face the fact that my dating pool is already smaller than everyone else my age. I have to live knowing that, no matter how much things change, there will always be a section of the world that hates me simply because I exist. And that, all of that, is apparently not enough. 

Because what if this is the way I always am? Not the gay thing, I think it’s pretty clear that’s going to be a continuous fact about my life.

I mean, what if I always do this with boys. What if I simply wasn’t meant to have male friends, because every time one of them is nice enough to show me some kindness and has a cute smile, I’m destined to make a fool of myself.

This isn’t fair.

I don’t even want to admit to myself that TJ has a cute smile. But, once the thought showed up in my head, it was impossible to think about anything else. That smile that he seemed to always have plastered on his face whenever I saw him. Or that smirk he put on whenever he was about to say something obnoxiously arrogant. Adorably arrogant.

Just thinking about it was enough to get my heart speeding up again.

Why! Why couldn't he just be ugly?

Monday morning couldn’t come fast enough. Despite the fact that I’d struggled to quiet my mind for most of the night—and sleep had been, well, fleeting—I literally leaped out of bed and ran downstairs to find my phone sitting next to a plate of eggs and toast, fully charged and waiting for me.

“I do hope that you at least tried to learn something about your responsibility with that particular piece of technology, son,” my Dad said over his morning paper.

I nodded quickly, fumbling a bit as I rushed to turn it back on. “Yes, Dad, I promise this will never happen again.”

“I’m sure it won’t, son,” he smiled over his cup of coffee before looking serious for a second. “However if it does, I may have to actually ground you for some time. So, please. I want to do that as little as you want it to happen.”

I nodded again and tried to show a genuine smile but I was honestly too distracted waiting for everything to finally load. Finally, the lock-screen picture of Andi, Buffy and I making duck-faces at the camera popped onto the screen, and I felt my phone vibrate for what felt like a minute as it loaded everything I had been forced to miss.

Fifty-seven messages. They’d have to wait.

Instead, I opened up the OG GHC group chat, the one that had been dormant for almost a month, and began typing a quick message as I tried to shovel my breakfast into my face as fast as possible.

‘Emergency meeting. Benches in front of school. ASAP.’

And then, standing up from the table and shrugging on TJ’s hoodie, I bid my Dad farewell and started my 15-minute power-walk to school.

As I was closing my door, I decided to send one more message just to make it as clear as possible that I was serious.

‘Skip breakfast if you have to.’

There. Normal Cyrus would never advocate skipping a meal, so if that didn’t light a fire under their butts, I didn’t know what would.

Twelve minutes later, and the fine layer of perspiration beading at my forehead made me realize it was a bit too warm that morning to be wearing a hoodie and jeans. Still, I had no desire to take off the slightly washed-out red-and-blue hoodie, or even unzip it a little bit. It made me feel more comfortable, and if I was about to face Buffy and especially Andi, and say what I planned on saying… I needed as much help as I could get.

“Cyrus, what the hell happened this weekend?" Somehow, Buffy had been able to get to school before me. Which really didn’t make sense, but I didn’t have enough spare processing power to think about that. "Out of nowhere, I get all these messages from Andi saying—”

“We can talk about that later,” I whispered, pulling Buffy into a hug. Everyone needs a support system, and at that moment, ‘The Slayer’ was mine. 

“What’s going on, then! Since when do you call emergency meetings at seven in the morning?” Buffy pulled back from my hug, a little stiff, and looked at me with worry and confusion in her eyes.

“It’s a little complicated. And dramatic, if I do say so myself. And I’d really prefer to just say it once. Have you heard from Andi?” I looked down at my phone only to see that there had been no responses to my messages. The big, red, fifty-seven glowed at me like a beacon.

“No, I haven’t,” Buffy said, falling onto the bench with a sigh. “Not since she sent me like half a dozen messages on Saturday. All about you, by the way. Does this have anything to do with why you didn’t answer anything I sent you all weekend? Because you better have a good excuse, or else that was very rude of you.”

“Oh, right, that. I can answer that: I’m sorry, Buffy. My dad took away my phone for being out late with it turned off on Saturday. I didn’t get it back ‘til this morning.” I noticed that my foot had started tapping itself against the concrete as I scanned the occasional group of kids walking towards us.

No Andi.

“Wait, why were you out—”

“Later, Buffy! I promise I’ll explain it all later.” I caught myself running my fingers through my hair and groaned internally. Now I’d have to fix that before class too.

“You’re acting weird, Cy. It’s making me nervous. Did something bad happen…”

“Yes. Well, no. Sort of. A few things happened it’s just…” I turned away from the students slowly trickling towards the school and looked Buffy right in the eye. I didn’t have to say anything. After a few seconds, she just nodded.

We stayed like that, sitting next to each other in semi-uncomfortable silence as we waited. Once, I thought I saw Andi’s pink jacket and pixie cut, but whoever it was disappeared into a crowd and then into the school.

I checked my phone. It was already seven-forty. And suddenly I realized there was a very real possibility that Andi wasn’t just late.

She wasn’t coming.

There were millions of things she could have said in those unread messages on my phone. She could be furious at me right now. Or she could think I’d called this meeting to shame her in front of Buffy. Maybe she wanted nothing to do with me, or thought I wanted nothing to do with her. 

I needed to read those messages, but I didn’t have time. That was a problem for future me. Something to fix when three-quarters of my brain wasn’t occupied by the fact that I had developed yet another disastrous crush on an attractive, straight, athletic friend.

Man, I really had a type.

I turned to Buffy, who I could tell was doing her best not to appear nervous but was in the process of twirling a piece of hair around her fingers—which she only ever did when she was nervous—and took a deep breath.

“I think it’s just going to be us, today,” I said, feeling my voice get a little weak as I spoke. Buffy nodded. I couldn’t imagine what was going through her head. I had already told her I was gay. I had already told her all my secret shames. What could I still possibly be hiding from her? That I killed someone?

No, my dear, dear Buffy. Something much worse.

“So,” I started, trying to keep the nerves out of my voice. “Yesterday I ended up hanging out with, um, with TJ. And we were, y’know, talking. About things. And he was, I guess, like, helping me out? With the Andi thing—I swear I’ll explain that later, after school or something—he was… helping me talk it out. I guess. And, really, he did a good job. Like, surprisingly good. And I was even starting to feel better. And then, he... he pulled me into a, uh…” I felt my face reflect the fear and worry I felt inside myself. I didn’t really know how to say what came next.

“Did he hurt you, Cyrus? Ugh, I’ll kill him!” Buffy started to push herself up from the bench, and I had to quickly grab hold of her arm to keep her from storming off. I shook my head.

“Then what…” slowly she began to sit back down on the bench.

“I, um—He pulled me into a hug, and...” I moved my hand over my heart and started moving it up and down really fast, “Ba-dumBa-dumBa-dum,” I tried to mimic the sound of my heart slamming against the walls of my chest as TJ had wrapped me up in his arms.

“You… had a heart attack?” Buffy asked, skeptically.

“No!” I whispered, frustrated. Ugh, I was going to have to actually say the words this time. She had been so good at guessing when I told her about Jonah, what happened to that connection? “I… I think I have a crush… on,” I tried to swallow, feeling my throat going dry, “on TJ.”

Buffy looked at me for a few seconds, the amount of concern and confusion in her eyes didn’t change at all as I fell silent. “Yeah, and? What happened, Cy, you’re freaking me out,” she asked finally, grabbing both my shoulders and giving me a slight shake.

“No…” I whispered, a little confused. “That’s… that’s it. I,” I gulped as I got ready to say it out loud for the second time. “I have a crush on TJ.”

A long silence fell between us. Oh no. Did she not approve? I know she and TJ weren’t on 100% the best terms in the world but did that mean my crush was going to make even more things complicated. What if she hadn’t actually forgiven him, and now she hated me for daring to have a crush on him.

What would I do if I couldn’t talk to Buffy? Ask Jonah for help?

No, thanks but no thanks.

After a few more seconds with the two of us just staring at each other on the bench, Buffy finally seemed to relax a bit in her seat.

“That’s it?” she asked, the tension visibly running out of her body and she jumped up to stand in front of me.

“This is big, Buffy!” I whispered as loudly as I dared. The crowd of kids milling around the entrance was starting to grow and I didn’t want to be overheard.

“Was that supposed to be a secret, Cyrus? I’ve known that for, like, months now.” Buffy rolled her eyes and started gathering her things.

What was that supposed to mean?

“Well I don’t know how that’s possible if I didn’t even know about it until last night,” I whisper-yelled, doing my best to keep up with her unreasonably fast walking pace as she started making her way towards the cafeteria.

“Cy, why would I possibly lie about this. You’ve had it bad for Mr. Too-much-hair-gel for so long, I stopped paying attention. I just figured we’d talk about it once it blew up in your face—”

“Hey!”

“—or, once you and Mr. Fantastical-Basketball had a hilariously awkward first date.” She finished, only half paying attention to me as she tried to figure out if it was worth it to get in the breakfast line. She sighed, and I felt bad that I had stolen the most important meal of the day from such an important athlete. 

“Wait, you really thought we could end up on a date? Together?” I whispered. I had honestly never considered that. Mostly because it was absolutely ridiculous and had no chance of happening in a million years.

Just as Buffy opened her mouth to respond, a wave of jeers and complaints erupted from the front of the cafeteria line. And for not the first time that morning, I felt my mouth go dry. I watched as a familiar head of carefully-styled blond hair push through the crowd, skipping the line and strutting up to the counter to grab not one, but two muffins from their little ivory pedestal. Then, with a flourish that I’m pretty sure hid furtively raised middle fingers to the kids waiting in line, TJ spun around. I felt my pulse quickening—and then go into overdrive—as TJ’s eyes locked onto mine from across the room. Instantly, his face lit up. With a wide smile, he held up the two muffins and started walking towards me.

“If I’m being honest,” Buffy whispered, turning around to face me with a small smirk before quickly starting to walk away, “I’d say the odds might actually be in your favor.”

And then she was gone, and I could hear TJ’s voice over the general din of the cafeteria, yelling in a tone that was way too light and happy for everything that I was dealing with.

“Hey, Underdog! Want a muffin? Chocolate-chocolate chip, your favorite!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I couldn't possibly keep up the break-neck pace but turns out I can. No promises on how long this'll continue though. Mondays suck.


	5. Fifty-Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are better left unknown. Well, that might be true, but then how are you supposed to fix anything?

What does one say to their crush when he comes bearing baked goods?

What does one say to their crush at all?

The answer to this assuredly age-old question continued to elude me as TJ made his way towards the back of the cafeteria, chocolatey muffin in his outstretched hand, a smile on his face.

"Here you go, Cy, fresh from the counter." My heart started racing as he got close. It was crazy how much he looked like... like a puppy! He looked proud, he looked happy to see me, he looked so cute—

Did he just call me 'Cy'?

"Did you just call me Cy?"

"Well, yeah," the puppy look faltered a bit, "all your other friends do. I thought I'd try it out. No good?" It was like watching a balloon deflate in front of my eyes. School hadn't even started and I had already screwed something up!

This! This is why I hate crushes! All of a sudden, I have to worry about every dumb thing that comes out of my mouth around TJ, lest I screw something up. The same thing happened with Jonah once I realized my crush on him. I became hyper-conscious of my word choice whenever he was nearby. With Jonah that hadn't been a huge change of pace, but I'd never had to be like that with TJ. It always came so naturally, talking to him was always so comfortable. I really hoped that wouldn't permanently change because of my stupid crush.

"No! No, it's good. It's all good! Everything is good," my laugh sounded a little forced, even to me, but I saw TJ's spirit perk up a little bit. "It's just, um, y'know, sorta weird to hear you call me anything other than Underdog. I mean," I let out a much more natural laugh as I noticed TJ's mood restoring itself, "I think I can count on one hand the number of times you've actually called me by your name."

"You mean called you by, uh, your name?"

"Yeah, what'd I say?" I asked, half-distracted. By that point, the muffin in TJ's hand was calling to me, and I was letting that distract me from my nerves. The jock seemed to notice and lightly tossed me the chocolatey treasure, very nearly causing a disaster as I struggled to catch it. TJ stifled his laugh once he noticed me glaring at him.

"No worries, I got what you mean. So, I guess, which do you prefer?"

"Which muffin? I thought my unabashed love of the Triple 'C' was pretty obvious," as carefully as I could manage, I began unwrapping the breakfast treat, losing as few crumbs as possible.

"Please, I'd be a pretty bad, uh, friend if I didn't know that. No, ya' dork, which nickname do you prefer?" TJ chomped down on his own blueberry muffin, making quite a mess of crumbs down the front of his hoodie. Another hoodie. How many did he have? Were the all as soft as the one I still had zipped up over my collared shirt?

How many could I steal before he started asking for them back?

"Oh, um, well, to be honest..." not that I could risk being dishonest, not with my lack of deceptive abilities, "I sort of prefer Underdog..." A light blush warmed my cheeks as I took a hurried bite of my muffin so that I didn't have to keep looking TJ in the eyes. Those eyes were dangerous for me.

"Really?" The athlete's surprise quickly gave way to the puppy-like enthusiasm from before. It was a look I was quite happy to see plastered on his face. Something about seeing that goofy smile did a lot of work towards settling the nerves that were fighting like snakes in my stomach.

"Well, yeah." I'm sure an equally goofy smile was spreading on my face as well, "It's, um..."

Whatever I was about to say disappeared from my head like water down the drain as I recognized something out of the corner of my eye. A bejeweled twinkle from the only hand-decorated backpack in the school drew my attention away from TJ's smile just in time to see Andi running as fast as she could from the entrance of the cafeteria.

Crap. I had no idea what to do. Chase after her? I didn't even know what to say! I wanted to talk to her, I wanted to start fixing all the things that caused me to blow up, I wanted to tell her I still loved her, but...

But what if she didn't want to see me? She was probably sprinting down the hallway specifically to avoid having to see me. She only had to put up with me in one class and that was probably the closest she'd let me get. I felt my heart drop as my head filled with negative thoughts, my mind reeling from the sudden emotional whiplash I was experiencing.

What if Andi never stopped avoiding me?

What if I had ruined my second oldest friendship? Permanently! Over a boy! Who I didn't even like anymore!

What had I done!

Before I realized what I was doing, my feet started moving me towards the doorway I had seen Andi running from. I had to fix it, and I needed to do it—

"Wait, Underdog. You gonna...?" TJ's hand gripped my shoulder, snapping me out of my own thoughts. A quick check-in with reality revealed that he looked worried; I had clearly missed something.

"Huh?" I asked, only half paying attention as I looked back at the door behind me for just a second. Andi was long gone.

"It's okay if you can't. I, um, I know how strict your parents can be." As his hand dropped from my shoulder, the basketball captain looked sheepish—and more than a little disappointed. What was happening, had I upset him again somehow? What had I missed?

I wasn't used to this, I wasn't used to being in the center of so much drama. I wasn't mentally prepared to deal with two stressful social failures! I thought that telling Buffy and Andi that I liked Jonah was as dramatic as my life would get—at least until I came out to more people—but clearly, I was mistaken. A disastrous crush and a best friend fight in the same day? I was much better suited to watching something like that from the sidelines, giving advice and support upon request. This was completely foreign territory.

Okay. Okay. What do I do? Think this through. Don't freak out. Just need to... need to deal with one thing at a time. Deal with what's in front of you, Cyrus. TJ is waiting for you.

"Um..." Okay, he had clearly asked a question. And questions require answers. And he wanted me to do... something. So, if I want to make him happy, he probably wants to hear a 'yes,' yes? Yes. "... yes?" I did my best to put on a big smile hoping that even if my answer didn't make sense, my body language would convey the right intention.

"Sweet!" Like magic, puppy-dog TJ was back and the butterflies in my stomach settled down a bit. That was one problem gone. Now I just had to figure out what I had agreed to.

"So, uh... wha—" My subtle attempt at gathering info was cut short as the warning bell sounded throughout the cafeteria. With a soft chorus of groans, the kids still littering the various tables started to get their things together. 

"Better get goin', Underdog. Don't want your first ever tardy!" TJ laughed out, giving me a soft push in the direction of the door. Crap, he was right, I couldn't let this personal drama get in the way of my perfect record!

With a lightly forced laugh, I nodded my head and got ready to power-walk to my first period. My life may have been falling apart around me, but there was no way I'd let my perfect attendance record be tarnished. Had to have something good to keep life worth living.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

First period was nothing special: turned in homework, got lectured on ancient Rome, and avoided getting called on for questions. It was second period where, somehow, I got my first stroke of good luck for the day. As fate would have it, Mrs. Williams had come down with some Sunday night food poisoning, and our school's laziest sub was on duty behind her desk. The venerable old Mr. Lane was the greatest sub known to Jefferson Middle School because, essentially, he was too apathetic to do anything more or less than exactly what the teacher had written down. Sitting at Mrs. Williams's desk with a giant mug of coffee, Mr. Lane started the class by monotonously reading—word for word—the e-mail Mrs. Williams had sent him that morning.

"Dear Mr. Lane, thank you for filling in for me today. Second and fifth period just started a new chapter on the metallic elements at the end of last week, and they don't currently have anything to be working on. Please instruct them to have a silent study period for today, and let them know that their Wednesday quiz will be moved to Thursday. Third and sixth period... yadda yadda... I will check my computer as I'm able, in case anything comes up. Best, Jan Williams." With an impressive yawn, Mr. Lane looked up from his phone and took a big swig from his mug. "Alright, boys and girls, there ya go. Silent study period. Silent."

The standard barrage of questions quickly followed. Could we listen to music with headphones? Could we listen to music without headphones? Could we work in groups? Could we go out and work on the benches if we promised to not cause any problems? With an apathetic sounding 'Yes; no; no; and definitely not, young lady,' Mr. Lane leaned back in his chair, and the poorly disguised whispering immediately began.

Even with TJ's Disney movie interruption, I had still finished most of my work for the week, so I didn't have a lot to do. I honestly thought about meditating for a while—I was a few seconds away from downloading an app to help me deal with the ball of stress that my life had become when it caught my eye again.

Fifty-seven unread messages.

Lunch would be my best chance to talk to Andi if I could find her. Waiting 'til English afterward would be a lost cause if there was no free time, and once school ended she would be able to disappear wherever she wanted. If I wanted to say something to her, I would have to do it at lunch, and if I wanted to know what I should say, I needed to read those messages.

They had been waiting for me for more than forty hours. I really needed to read them.

And yet, as my thumb hovered over the messaging app, it was like all the little butterflies in my stomach were screaming at me, "No!"

What if those messages just confirmed my suspicions, and Andi never wanted to talk to me again? Or even worse, what if she was sad? Like, really sad? What if ignoring her messages had made her think she was completely abandoned, and—like the straw that broke the camel's back—my blowing up at her had been that last little thing needed to throw her into a deep, dark depression that would take months to work her way out of. I could never forgive myself if that happened. That couldn't be what happened.

I had to read those messages.

The simple act of pushing the icon did quite a bit to relieve the stress ricocheting around my stomach. So did seeing that I had messages from people other than Andi. TJ had popped over a few the prior morning, making sure I'd gotten home safe, and then seeing if I wanted to hang out. Buffy had sent ten, first asking why Andi had suddenly texted her, then asking what was going on with me, and finally telling me I needed a good excuse for ignoring her when something was clearly going on. Then there were three increasingly more serious messages from my Dad asking where I was. I even had one from Jonah, asking 'Is everything okay with Andi, Cy-guy?' which was weird, but I'd deal with that later.

According to my mental math, that left thirty-six texts from Andi. I looked at the clock and saw that I'd already wasted almost twenty minutes just working myself up to touching her name. If I wanted to figure out what was going on, I really needed to get around to taking the first step. I knew that, and yet I still didn't want to do it. But after fighting myself for a bit longer, my need to know finally outweighed my need to not add more stress to my life.

With an audible gulp, I pulled up the messages and quickly scrolled to the top.

"Please come back, Cy. I'm so sorry, please come back." The first message hit me the hardest. Not that it was a surprise, it was almost exactly what I figured—and sort of hoped—she would say. But I couldn't help but picture how devastated she'd looked when I stormed out of her room. I could practically hear her voice, saying those words as she cried on the bed. I felt gross.

"I'm so sorry, Cy. Please, come back so we can talk. I was selfish and I need to tell you how sorry I am." The messages from those first few minutes after I'd stormed out, they were painful to read. I could only finish one at a time before needing a break. Each one made me feel worse and worse until I was sure that I was a horrible person, inside and out. "Please don't ignore me." It felt like the butterflies in my stomach were dying, falling together to form a heavy stone weighing down on my heart. It almost hurt to keep reading, I so wanted to just scroll to the end. But I couldn't do that.

I felt like I deserved every torturous moment.

The messages carried on like that for a few minutes, and then there was a string of six individual "I'm sorry," messages that had come through over the course of about an hour. I could feel tears pressing behind my eyes, and I felt stupid. I felt like crap because I knew that, at some level, this was what I wanted. This was what that part of me wanted. Not the incredible sadness, but the apology. An acknowledgment that she had screwed up, had treated me like a second-class friend. That stupid, greedy part of me felt satisfied reading those texts, and that just made me feel worse.

What was wrong with me?

Then there was a big time gap—like maybe she gave up for a while, or maybe her mom forced her to eat dinner. But then the messages started up again, and Andi's tone started to change. "I can't believe you're ignoring me, Cyrus. I want to make this up to you but I can't if you won't let me." She was right, of course. With a sigh, I leaned back in my chair and gave myself a minute to think. I didn't want to be ignoring her! Not anymore! I wanted to work with her to fix it, and I hoped she still felt the same way. But now she was ignoring me, so something must have happened. My brain was reeling with all the stress and sadness I had absorbed from Andi's words, but I knew I needed to keep going. I only had a few more left to read.

"I got into an argument with Bex, now, too. I don't know what to do and I have no one to talk to about it." That hurt too, because I had lost a chance to be her support system. One of my favorite things to do! I wondered what they had fought about, wondered about how I could have helped.

"I could really use a friend, Cyrus. I really hope a boy hasn't changed that between us, too." Of course we were still friends! Weren't we?

We were, right?

"First Buffy and Walker and now you? I made a mistake, please don't abandon me because of one mistake." The fingers on my free hand started twisting at the hem of TJ's hoodie, and I was somehow both sweating and freezing at the same time. Andi's tone was definitely shifting, and I...

What had happened?

"Cyrus, please, you can't abandon me like this. I'm really freaking out and I really need someone to talk to." Then, a few minutes later, "I can't believe you're doing this to me."

And then the apologetic tone was gone.

"A friend wouldn't leave a friend hanging like this, Cyrus." I swear my heart stopped as I read those words. No. Please, no. That wasn't what I wanted. Not even the evil, hidden part of me. I didn't want to lose a friend. "Fine, leave me. I’ll find someone else. Someone who hasn't abandoned me."

Someone who hadn’t abandoned her? I just wanted to reach through time so I could tell her that no one had abandoned her. I hoped whoever she had reached out to had been the help she needed. I hoped—

Wait.

Sent at 8:57.

I went back a page and pulled up Jonah’s text from that night. Sent at 9:08. Crap.

She turned to Jonah. Jonah, the boy who once saw me crying on the sidewalk after my hamster died and asked me if I had, ‘just eaten something super spicy, dude?’

I mean, I love the guy—platonically, I swear—but he wasn’t who I would turn to in a time of emotional crisis. And had Andi even considered whether being Jonah's ex and coming to him while freaking out would cause Jonah any problems? Suddenly I found myself worrying if Jonah was okay, too.

With another deep breath, I steeled my nerves one last time. Three more messages I had to read. Then, I’d be all caught up.

It would be okay. I mean, how much worse could three messages make things.

As I was about to flip back to Andi’s texts, the door of the classroom swung open. Most of the class fell silent for a moment, until a familiar face walked in and they devolved back into whispering. Jonah Beck took a few steps into the room before stopping mid-stride, looking very confused by Mr. Lane’s presence.

“Uh, is Mrs. Williams here today? I have to ask her something about our...” Jonah’s question faded on his lips as Mr. Lane began lazily shaking his head.

“Out sick, kid. She’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Dang. Oh, well, thanks anyway,” with a shrug, the brunette spun around and started making his way back out. Seeing my chance, I waved excitedly, hoping to catch my friend's eye. With Jonah being a grade above me, I almost never got to see him during school.

For a second, Jonah's eyes met mine and I felt my smile growing. But instead of waving back and continuing on his way, Jonah faltered. His eyes grew wide like he was seeing a ghost, and the grin on his face shifted to look more like a grimace. Shakily, he lifted his hand in a weak wave before quickly turning away and hurrying out of the room.

That was weird. That was really weird. It was like he barely recognized me. I mean, yeah, TJ had sort of replaced him as my main male friend recently, but we still hung out all the time. In fact, with Andi mostly avoiding our group, it felt like my friendship with Jonah had entered a Renaissance in the past two weeks.

Still confused, but realizing I only had a few minutes left in class, I set thoughts of Jonah aside and turned back to my phone. He would have to be a problem for another time.

Three more messages.

With a heavy heart, I scrolled to the bottom of the chat. As much as I hoped for it, I knew it was too much to ask that Andi would suddenly send messages about reconciliation. Still, I was optimistic as I started reading the three messages sent in quick succession. And then I was a bit confused. And then...

“I’m so sorry, Cyrus.”

“I didn’t mean to. I was so angry and it slipped out I’m so sorry.”

“I swear, Cy, I didn’t mean to tell him. I’m so sorry.”

That was not how I expected that to end. Based on her previous few messages I expected a 'friendship over' declaration, or something even worse than that. Tell who what?

I mean, the ‘him’ probably meant Jonah, but what could she...

My memory flashed with the look on Jonah's face from before he'd sprinted out of the room. I had seen him make that face before. It was the one he made when he saw someone he was trying to avoid. The last time he had that look on his face was at The Spoon, when he'd dashed out the door to avoid a girl he thought liked...

Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you this one would take longer. Hopefully, I can keep up the pace of a few chapters per weekend, because I don't think I could keep up this story if it stretched on for a few months. Don't worry, if you like it, I won't abandon it.


	6. Three for Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus tried to deal with his revelation about what Andi has done. It doesn't go well.

Second period ended. Third period began.

I wasn’t late, I took useless notes, I didn’t say a word.

Third period ended. Fourth period began.

I wasn’t late, I tried to take notes, I didn’t say a word.

Fourth period ended. Lunch began.

I didn't find Andi. I didn’t see Jonah.

I didn’t say a word.

What was there to say? There were too many questions shouting themselves in my head for me to say or think anything else. 

Andi told Jonah that I liked him. 

Had it really been an accident? Had it been revenge? Did she tell anyone else? Was I about to be the next rumor, spreading like a cancer through Jefferson? Were those giggling girls in the hallway trading made-up stories about me and other boys? How long before it reached TJ? How long before it reached my parents?

And what about Jonah?

How did Jonah react when she told him? Would he ever talk to me again? Did he hate me now? Did he hate me because I liked him? Did he hate me because I was a boy who liked him? Did he—

“Cyrus!”

“Underdog! There you are!”

In a flash of sound and color, the world filled itself in around me. Why was I outside? Why were people calling my name? Why was someone yanking me by the arm?

“Woah, watch it, man. Almost walked straight into that tree!” TJ’s face made sense of itself as he smiled at me, his hand still gripping my arm right above the elbow.

“Tree?” It took a second for me to realize we were only a few feet away from a young oak tree. Oh, and there was Buffy, leaning against said tree with a look on her face like someone had just told her the sky was green.

“Earth to Cyrus,” the sarcasm in her voice was clear as she pushed herself away from the bark and walked over to us. As she did so, I felt TJ’s grip let go of my arm. “Are you planning on just wandering around like a zombie all lunch?”

“Huh? Oh, um…” I shook my head to try to clear the fog that was still clouding my brain. “Sorry.”

“You okay, Underdog? You look sorta… off.”

The functioning part of my brain wanted to reassure him that I was fine. But I was very much not okay, and there was a lump in my throat keeping me from saying otherwise. I stayed silent instead, kicking my shoes at the grass and not meeting either of their stares.

“Cyrus, did something happen?” Buffy sounded concerned, reaching forward to squeeze my shoulder.

Did something happen? Yeah, I think you could say that. Except I couldn’t say anything, apparently, so I just shrugged and nodded my head, instead.

“Did someone mess with you, Underdog?” TJ puffed out his chest, and a scowl settled on his face. “I swear—”

“No! No, no one messed with me. It’s just…” I sighed, trying to swallow the lump in my throat.

“What more could have possibly happened since the last time I saw you, Cy?” Buffy threw her hands up in the air like she was frustrated. Frustrated with me. This really had been a crazy few days, and I felt a bit ashamed to say anything.

“It was, um…” My eyes went back and forth from Buffy to TJ, and back to Buffy. I wanted to tell her, but I couldn’t do it with TJ there. I just wasn’t ready to tell him the truth, and there was no way I could obscure things and still have it make sense. Silently, I willed Buffy to understand my reluctance to speak. “It’s, uh… we can, you know, talk about it later?”

“Huh? What do you…” 

“Oh. I get it.” The lump in my throat doubled in size as I heard TJ’s voice. I was surprised to hear how hard it was, suddenly missing the soft edge he always used when he spoke to me. “Something I’m not allowed to hear, right? I guess it’s Good Hair Crew only, or whatever.”

“No, TJ—”

“Fine, I know when I’m not wanted.” With a huff, the older teen bumped into Buffy with his shoulder as he pushed past her.

“TJ, wait!” I tried to grab for his wrist, but he was already a few feet away by the time my brain figured out that I needed to move.

“Oh, that’s nice! Way to be supportive, Kippen!” Buffy shouted. Great, my best friend yelling at my crush, what other wonderful things could this day bring me. Buffy scowled at TJ as he stomped past, and I felt my stomach start doing flips. I knew she was just adding fuel to the fire with her tone of voice.

“Whatever, Driscoll,” TJ spat out as he took a few more steps away from us. “I’m gonna go get some food. Let me know if I miss anything I’m trustworthy enough to hear.” With a sneer, the older teen turned away from us and stomped towards the school. 

Ah, yes, just what I needed: my crush being upset because he assumes I don’t trust him. Oh, happy day.

“I don’t know what you see in that jerk,” Buffy, frustrated, whispered to me as we watched TJ aggressively pull his hood up and stalk away.

“Buffy…” I whined, trying to ignore the pit growing in my stomach as I watched TJ’s back. That's what this day reduced me to in, like, 4 hours. What is my life! “You know I hate it when you two fight...”

“We’re not fighting, Cy, he’s just being an oversensitive baby. He’ll get over it.” Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and turned to me with an expectant look. 

“Just… try not to aggravate anything, please. I think he’s mad at me this time, not you.” Of course, he’s mad at me. Because I suck. Because he thinks I don’t trust him! Even after everything he’s trusted me with! I’m the worst; as both a friend and a crush.

“Fine. Whatever, I’ll be nice to the jerk. I’m sure he’ll love you again by next period anyway. Now can you hurry up and tell me what’s going on? Lunch is already half over.”

“It’s Andi, Buffy.” With a sigh, I walked over to sit under the tree that I had almost run into, leaning my back against the trunk. “I think she did something… something really bad.” The wind picked up a bit, and, in the shade of the tree, I was incredibly thankful for the warmth of TJ’s hoodie. Though, as my hand started playing with the frayed hem, I felt my stress over TJ’s anger double.

“Are you finally going to tell me what’s going on between you two? I’d rather avoid having to play another Cyrus’ Drama guessing game.”

“I blew up at her on Saturday, okay? Full on screaming, storming out of her house, everything.” I rested my head against the rough bark of the tree, looking up at Buffy who was still standing expectantly in front of me.

“Not like you, but I’m sure she deserved it. What happened?” Buffy bent down to dig in the grass. A few seconds later she returned to her full height and began tossing an acorn from hand to hand.

“She was talking about you… and Walker.” Buffy scoffed but didn’t interrupt. “She said that the fact that you didn’t ask if she was okay with it until it was too late made you a, uh… a bad friend.”

Buffy didn’t say anything as I took a second to compose myself. I knew that, as sure as she was that she was in the right about Walker, she still beat herself up over hurting Andi’s feelings. She always got really quiet whenever she convinced me to tell her the things Andi had said about her.

“And I couldn’t stop thinking about my crush on Jonah,” I continued. “How she never asked me if I was okay, and how she practically ignored the fact that I ever told her about my crush. It was like she had decided that this huge, important part of me that I’d been really scared to share with her… she just decided it didn’t matter. Turns out I’ve been holding onto some anger about that, apparently.”

“Oh, Cyrus…” Letting out a deep breath, Buffy lowered herself to the ground next to me and rested her head on my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah… me too.”

“But, if that was Saturday… what happened today? Did she say something to you? I haven’t seen her all day.”

“No, I, um, finally got around to reading all my texts from this weekend. Sorry for ignoring you, by the way,” I heard her laugh lightly next to my ear, and it did a little bit of good to reduce the stress I was feeling. “I wanted to see how she felt, so I could, you know, fix things. And she got really upset, Buffy. She thought I was abandoning her. And I think she was desperate for someone to talk to. I assume you weren’t responding to her either?”

“No, she sent me like five messages asking me if I knew where you were, and telling me to tell you to call her. I never responded.”

“Yeah, well, I think she ended up reaching out to Jonah.”

“Oh no, that poor boy.”

“Wait, it gets worse,” I tried to laugh, but ended up just letting out a long breath. “I think she told him… about my crush.”

“Wait, what?” Buffy’s head shot up like she had just heard the starting gun at a race. With a sigh, I pulled out my phone and opened it to Andi’s messages before handing it to her.

“I saw Jonah today. He looked at me like I had a second head before just… running away. I think he knows, Buffy.”

“Cyrus…”

I wanted to act like it wasn’t a big deal, to at least pretend I could brush it off while I was still at school. But it was like the emotions I had been avoiding for the past few hours came crashing down on top of me all at once. Tears started falling faster than I could wipe them away, and it felt like my whole body was shaking.

“He knows, Buffy! He knows, and now he’s never going to speak to me again!”

“Oh, Cyrus, no! That’s not true,” I felt my best friend’s arms pulling me into a hug but I got no comfort from it. Buffy’s attempts at comforting me weren’t changing anything. The fact of the matter was, the exact thing I had worked so hard to keep from happening was coming true. Someone important to me had found out I was gay and it had ruined everything. With one slip of the tongue, a friendship I’d been working to build all year was collapsing.

“What am I going to do, Buffy?” I asked, trying futilely to stop my tears. “What if this spreads?”

“It’s not going to spread, Cy. Andi wouldn’t do that,” Buffy’s tone was serious, but I could hear a thread of doubt in her voice.

“But what do I do…” I pulled back from the hug and started taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself down.

“I know what I’m going to do. I’m gonna go find Andi and ask her what the hell she thinks she’s doing!” With fire in her eyes, Buffy pushed herself up to standing and pulled out her phone.

“Wait, I want to come with you!” Still wiping the tears from my face, I struggled to get back on my feet. I couldn’t just let my tough best friend fight my battles for me. As much as I wanted to.

“Are you sure, Cy? You look like you really need to… take a breather. Yeah.”

“No. I have class with her next period anyway. We should try to talk to her before that.” I tried to steel myself against the reality of what was happening, but it was tough. I really wanted to take Buffy’s advice and curl up for a few hours.

“Okay... Do you have any idea where to find her?” I sighed and shook my head.

“Might as well start with the art studio.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

We didn’t find Andi during lunch. I did see TJ at one point in our search, but he was sitting with his friends, and I didn’t want to interrupt. Unfortunately, we only had a few minutes to search for the pixie-haired girl by the time I got my tears to stop, but in the end, it didn’t matter.

Andi wasn’t in English, either. She must have gone home early.

“Do you want to go by her place after school? She probably had Bex pick her up, but she’ll have to talk to us if we go to her house.”

“Maybe if we don’t see her tomorrow,” I let my disappointment color my voice as I grabbed the books I needed from my locker.

“Are you sure you want to wait ‘til then?” Buffy was leaning against the locker next to mine, looking like she was ready to get into a fight. 

“Yes, Buffy. I’m tired, and I have too many things to fix right now and not enough energy to deal with any of them.” With a sigh, I slammed my locker closed and turned to face my friend. “Hopefully she’ll come to school tomorrow, and we’ll be able to fix… everything.”

“Speaking of things to fix…” Buffy’s voice dropped to a whisper as her eyes shifted to look down the hall. After a few seconds, I could hear the alpha-male athlete banter and I knew exactly what she was looking at. TJ and his basketball teammates were making their usual boisterous exit of the school especially loud as they passed behind me. Unconsciously, I braced myself for the slap on the back TJ usually gave me whenever we didn’t leave school together. The friendly, ‘See you tomorrow, Underdog!’

But it never came.

The raucous group of older boys made their way down the hall without acknowledging me or Buffy at all. And it hurt.

“You’re looking like you really want to fix that one ASAP,” Buffy murmured in a voice that sounded full of pity.

Crap. She was right.

“TJ! Wait, TJ!” My voice caught in my throat a little as I called after the blond athlete, but eventually, after enough repetitions and a feeble attempt at catching up, he seemed to hear me. I saw him pause for a second—falter for just a moment in his long strides down the hallway—and I felt my heart lift.

But he didn’t stop. And he didn’t turn around. As his friends broke out into a bout of laughter I watched TJ pull his hood over his head again and push his way through the crowd.

“TJ!”

A few of his basketball friends turned around as I tried one last time to get him to stop—I heard them let out a chorus of ‘Ooooooh’s as they saw me—but TJ just ducked his head and jogged out the front doors.

Andi doesn’t want to talk to me.

Jonah doesn’t want to talk to me.

And now, TJ doesn’t want to talk to me.

I guess I’m three for three today.

Great. Just… great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter involved a complete rewrite. The original direction was significantly darker and more serious. And yet it ended with TJ and Cyrus on a better note. Oh well, this is what you got.


	7. Can We Talk?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus gets some sage advice when he's four years old, let's see if he can apply it to being a teenager.

'Can we talk?'

I must have typed out those three words a hundred times between leaving school and falling into a restless sleep. Typed them, but never sent them.

I couldn't send them to Andi. There's no way she'd respond. Talking would mean facing her mistake, answering my questions, dealing with consequences. Talking meant finding out if I would forgive her, or be mad at her; even I didn't know how that was going to fall. And so I typed those three words, and deleted them, and typed them again. And when I wasn't hovering over the send button for her, I was typing the same words to Jonah.

'Can we talk?'

But I couldn't send them to Jonah. There's no way he'd respond honestly. He'd reply automatically, probably within a few minutes, and then act like there was nothing wrong. He'd do everything he could to avoid talking about why he fled from the sight of me—talking about that would be an awkward conversation, one that would require dealing with emotions. And awkward, difficult conversations weren't exactly his forte. Plus, no one was more annoying to talk to than Jonah when he didn't want to admit anything was wrong. Ask Andi.

Oh right, I can't ask Andi, because she's not talking to me.

The most painful thing, though, was that I couldn't send it to TJ. 'Can we talk?' No. Because I'm a coward. Because what if he asked why I hadn't wanted him to hear what I told Buffy? How could I explain that I had secrets I couldn't tell him. What excuse did I have other than being a coward? 

'Can we talk?'

That was a question I'd never had to ask TJ. The answer was always assumed to be yes. And now that it wasn't...

I was scared.

I had my phone back, but I felt more alone than ever.

The next day was gloomy, because of course it was. TJ's hoodie probably needed a wash, but it was warm against the sunless sky and there was no way I was taking it off. Besides, if he saw me and asked for it back, at least he'd be talking to me. Right?

'Can we talk?'

The words were still there, typed into all three messages, just waiting to be sent as I approached the school. It was all I could think about, and yet...

With a sigh, I put away my phone.

Buffy was busy on Tuesdays. She had to spend her lunch getting things ready for the girls' basketball team, and even my drama was not enough to pull her away from that. So, for the first time in a long time, I spent my lunch alone. 

Why was being gay so scary? And why was I so scared to tell people? Without friends to distract me, all I could think about were the people who wouldn't talk to me, and two of those three problems were caused by the fact that being gay and a teenager was a significantly frightening way to exist. There are a lot of things that I was frightened of—though I didn't have a complete list on my phone—but the fear I felt at the thought of people finding out I was gay was, in my opinion, the most reasonable. As I pushed the school's sad excuse for green beans around my plate, I tried to think about how much easier everything would be if I just weren't so...

Scared.

When I was four, my Dad decided that my fear of the basement had become 'unreasonable.' It came up after I had almost knocked him down the stairs in a frantic attempt to get out of his arms when he opened the basement door. The next day, he brought me a big mug of hot chocolate and sat me down in the living room; once we were both comfortable and enjoying the rare treat, he asked me a question.

"Cyrus, why is the basement so scary?"

It took a while, and probably half my mug of hot chocolate before I answered, but he was patient. He had plenty of experience with nervous kids.

"Um, it's, um... because it's dark..."

"Is that the only reason it's scary, my son?"

"No..." Imagine a perfectly adorable four-year-old me, shaking his head as hard as he could.

"Why else?"

"Because, um... 'Cause there's stuff..."

"What kind of stuff, Cyrus? Use your words, my son, I know you've learned some wonderful new words at school recently."

"Yeah, um, 'cause there's stuff. I don't know what stuff is down there, and you said there was a, uh, 'ackoon' down there, and I'm scared of the 'ackoon."

"Ah, yes, so are you worried that the raccoon from last month is still down there?"

Again, imagine adorable four-year-old me, big chocolate mustache from finishing my drink, nodding my head as hard as I could.

"And if I turn on the lights, so that it is not dark, and promise you that the raccoon is not there anymore, will you go downstairs with me so that I can prove it to you?"

And as a four-year-old, I didn't know what to say to that. Because I knew my Dad would protect me, but I also knew that the basement was too scary to go into, and those two thoughts seemed to not make sense. So I shrugged.

"Maybe a little bit," I semi-agreed.

"How about tonight, we go just a few steps down, then? And see how we feel tomorrow?"

And we did. And within two weeks, I was all the way down in the basement, finally able to help my Dad find the Hanukkah decorations, which I'm pretty sure had been his goal all along.

'Tell me, Cyrus, why is the thought of admitting you're gay to someone you care about so scary?' I heard my Dad's voice in my head, but it sounded different. It sounded the way it did back when I was four. From before my own voice had started to drop, back when the thought of a voice that deep had seemed so impressive and protective. Without thinking about it too much, I stood up from my lonely lunch table and ran to go grab a chocolate milk.

Time to use my words. 

Why is it so scary?

Because I don't know how they're going to react. They might react poorly, I know it happens. I had used incognito mode a few times to look up the stories of gay kids my age. News stories or blog posts; some of them were inspirational pieces—usually about athletes—of acceptance and love. But that wasn't all of them. There was always one, at least one, where it went bad. Where the kid was asking for help after his parents had kicked him out, or practically had him under house arrest. There were articles about schools that wouldn't let gay kids bring their dates to dances. An obituary for a young guy who was a little bit too effeminate and got bullied so much that he killed himself.

Why is it so scary? Because it might go bad.

'Do you believe that is what will happen if you tell your family and friends? That it will go bad?' Childhood-Dad's voice echoed in my head again; calm, collected, simply... asking a question.

That's the problem: I don't know! I can't know!

'When you told Buffy, what did you think would happen?'

I didn't know. I was really scared and I had to tell someone, but I was still terrified that she would get up from that table and leave me forever. I was so scared, Buffy had to say the words for me.

'And did Buffy react poorly?'

No. She was... amazing. 

'What about with Andi?'

I was scared then, too. I was scared to tell her, I was scared of ruining my party, and I was especially scared to tell her that I liked the same boy she was kind-of-sort-of seeing. But I knew she needed someone to commiserate with, so I put on a brave face. And it came out so... easily. It felt so good to say.

'And did Andi react poorly?'

No. She was... less amazing, I guess, in retrospect. But she still loved me afterward.

I drained the last of my chocolate milk and sat back in my chair with a sigh. 

'It seems to me you've already turned on the light, and taken the first steps—all without anyone's help.'

I knew what I needed to do.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jonah Beck is a simple boy. Beautiful, but simple nonetheless. He has patterns, and he rarely deviates from them as he's generally perfectly happy to just... do what he's always done. And on Tuesdays, with no Space Otters practice going on, that meant skateboarding behind the school.

I know this—despite the fact that I never joined him after that time I broke my thumb—because on Wednesday mornings he almost always showed up with a new scrape, or bruise, or scratch. All of which did a consistent job of reminding me why I had no plans to return to the board. And since we didn't share any classes together, and Mr. Beck had done an impressive job of avoiding me in the hallways, searching behind the school was my best hope of talking to him sometime before our friendship was completely destroyed.

Plus, Andi had ignored me for all of English, and both her and TJ had disappeared the second school had let out. So, really, it was Jonah Beck or bust.

And so, despite the increasing chill in the air and the lack of sun in the sky, I found myself following the sound of frustrated exclamations until I stumbled upon Jonah's practicing grounds.

The other great thing about Jonah Beck—well, usually it's not so great but in this case, it was perfect—is that he's oblivious. He had no idea as I stood about fifty feet away, slightly obscured by a bush, and waited for the perfect moment to approach him. And, sure enough, after watching him launch himself at a knee-high wall a few dozen times, a particularly spectacular failure sent the board flying out from under him straight towards my hiding spot.

Talk about a sign.

"You, uh... lose something?" I called, bending down to pick up the rogue skateboard and almost falling on my face in the process. Normally my clumsiness would evoke a laugh, or a chortle; at least a smirk. But Jonah's face was pale and wide-eyed when I finally righted myself and was able to get a good look.

Maybe this would be harder than I had convinced myself.

"Hey, um, Jonah... Can we talk?"

As if I had spoken the magic words, Jonah seemed to snap back to life. There was a smile on his face, but I knew him well enough to know that it was a smile that meant he was very uncomfortable with his situation.

Yeah, me too bud.

"Uh, talk, Cy-guy? What's there to, um, talk about?" The brunette still hadn't moved any closer to me by then, so with a sigh, I tucked the board under my arm and made my way over to him. I didn't say anything else until I was sitting on the wall with the board on the ground in front of me.

"I think... Andi told you something this weekend, didn't she?"

"Wha—Andi? Told me? You... I mean, uh, what do you... mean, Cy?" The exaggerated smile on Jonah's face grew a few more millimeters as he proceeded to look at anywhere other than my face, eventually focusing on the skateboard not far from his feet.

I started to feel the pit in my stomach growing again. I knew that, if I let him, Jonah would never acknowledge what he knew about me. At least not for a few years. Even if we remained friends, he would never be the one to start this conversation. It had to be me. And yet being explicit was still terrifying.

Each new step my Dad had coaxed me down the basement stairs had been absolutely terrifying when I was a kid. The process had taken weeks because I was never able to go more than one or two new steps at a time. After my first journey, I had taken to using stickers—the happiest ones I could find—to mark each new step as I summoned the courage to travel closer to the bottom. And then, when I was down to the last two steps, I had decided to venture down on my own while my Dad took a nap. The cold, slightly rough wood of the stairs had started to feel comfortable under my tiny feet. It no longer scared me to just sit there, two steps above the basement floor. So I tried to take it one step farther; I wanted to make my Dad proud. But as my foot had just started to rest on the step below me, I heard a monster roaring all around me, knocking on the walls and ceiling—I knew it was going to eat me up, and I ran up those stairs as fast as my little legs could carry me.

The heater had turned on, and it was two days before my Dad was able to convince me to go as far as two stickers back down those steps.

As Jonah stooped down to pick up his skateboard and started to awkwardly come up with an excuse, I could feel my throat tightening. I was scared. I wasn't ready to talk about this. The monster was coming, and I wanted to run.

But who knew how long it would take me to even get this close again.

"Well, Cy, uh... sorry, I just remembered my parents? They, um, they want me home early today, haha! So, I will see you—"

"I don't have a crush on you anymore."

I forced myself to watch Jonah's face, as much as I wanted to look anywhere else. The fake smile disappeared pretty quickly, but what replaced it didn't look angry, or sad, or disgusted. Jonah just looked like... like he didn't know how to respond to that.

"That's what Andi told you, isn't it? She told you I had a crush on you."

"Yeah, um... yeah, she did."

"And that's why you've been avoiding me, isn't it?" I swallowed around the lump in my throat and did my best to keep my tone of voice at a normal level. The last thing I wanted was an embarrassing voice crack.

Still refusing to meet my eyes, Jonah nodded. It was tough, seeing him confirm that. Knowing that my old crush was avoiding me because I liked him sucked. It hurt more than I wanted to admit, even though I had been fully expecting it. 

"But... you don't have a crush on me?" There was a tinge of hope in Jonah's voice, and it made my heart stutter for a moment because I still didn't know whether it was from a hope that I didn't like him specifically or boys in general.

"No..." I took in a deep breath. I could leave it at that, let him interpret that however made him the most comfortable. But no.

The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. It was time to step into the basement.

"But I did at one point. A few months ago." I could hear how strained my voice was as I spoke, but for the first time since I picked up his board, Jonah actually returned my stare, and I was able to see his eyes. They were still as crazy blue as ever, even with such an ugly, cloudy day; it was like they were illuminated from some other dimension. I watched as a look of recognition grew behind those eyes, like he was just starting to figure things out as he stood there.

"So does that mean..."

"I'm gay, Jonah."

"Oh... Oh! Right! Um, yeah! That's... that's cool, man!" The poor guy was still at a loss for what to say, that much was obvious. As much as I wanted to let him keep going—it can be quite funny to watch Jonah struggle when his charm is failing—I didn't think my heart could take extending the conversation any longer than necessary.

"You don't have to say anything. I know you probably weren't expecting to deal with, um, this," I pointed to myself, "and I'm sorry you had to find out this way. But... are you cool? With... me?" I couldn't take the emotional strain anymore and dropped my eyes until I was looking at my feet. Please say you're cool. 

Please don’t let there be a monster in the basement.

Please.

"Cy-guy," I suddenly felt a tentative hand on my shoulder, "I'm sorry that I don't... know what to say, for this. But I promise you we're cool. I mean, love is love, right?"

"So, me being, um, gay... doesn't make you uncomfortable? That's not why you were... avoiding me?" The pit in my stomach was slowly disappearing as Jonah's hand squeezed my shoulder. It was slowly being replaced by a light, bubbly feeling throughout my entire body.

"No way, man! I'm sorry for avoiding you, Cy. I just, well... I guess I never know how to handle it when someone, um, likes me. Especially not when it's my best friend." Seeing Jonah's real smile was one of the most relieving things I have ever experienced in my life. As those dimples showed themselves, the last of my anxiety disappeared from my mind.

We were cool.

"Um, just to make it super clear. I do not have a crush on you. Not anymore."

"Yeah," Jonah laughed, "I got that the first time, Cy."

"I have moved on," I felt so bubbly, that I barely even realized what I had said until I saw Jonah's smile grow extra wide.

"Oh really..." Suddenly Jonah's eyes went incredibly wide and I could tell his brain was working overtime. "Oh, crap! Iris! I'm so sorry, Cy, I promise I had no idea when I set you two up!"

Between the worried look on Jonah's face and relief I was feeling, I couldn't help it anymore. At the mention of the unfortunate victim of my first date and first kiss, I burst out laughing until I was doubled over and gasping for breath. That poor girl, we probably would have been perfect together if she had only been, y'know... a boy. Meanwhile, Jonah was still muttering as he came over to sit beside me, which was doing nothing to stop my giggling.

"I don't think I know any guys who... I can set you up with. But I'll keep my eye out, man. I still think I have a knack for this matchmaker thing."

"No, Jonah, please, I'm good." As I started to get my laughter under control, I noticed that Jonah was giving me one of his full-strength smiles. Man, between that face and his kind personality, I had a feeling Jonah Beck would be the gay awakening for many more boys in the coming years. But for now, I was just thankful that he was my friend.

"Well, if you ever need me to be your wingman, just let me know. I'll talk you up to any guy you want. I won't rest until every gay guy in Shadyside knows how docious Cyrus Goodman is."

"I may need to take you up on that, Jolamajama. But not today."

"You wanna hang? I can try to teach you to skate again. I promise this time, I'll teach you how to stop!"

"I've broken enough bones for this year, thank you very much. Plus, this whole... thing, it was very stressful for me, and I think I'm going to go home and take a nap. Thanks, though." With a grin, I stood up breathed in what felt like my first full breath all day. I felt so light, especially as Jonah stood up with me and pulled me into a side hug.

"Alright, see you later, Cy-guy!"

"Later!"

As we went our separate ways, I couldn't help the smile that had settled on my face.

One down.

Two to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving everyone! See if you can convince me to write one more chapter before Turkey day...


	8. Ride the Wave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riding the high of a successful coming out experience, Cyrus decides to let his instincts lead the way for once.

The first thing my Mom did after pulling me into a hug that afternoon was to wrinkle her nose before taking a deep sniff of my shoulder.

“Cyrus, honey, you smell like sweaty boy. What have…” she took another deep breath of the air around me, “when was the last time you took a shower? You know, dear, now that you’ve started puberty it’s especially important—”

“This morning, Mom, jeez! I took a shower this morning!” Please, Lord, don’t let this be the start of another Talk. The first one had been nigh traumatizing. They’d pulled out a stack of diagrams! Diagrams!

“Did you put on deodorant?” She looked me up and down, taking a step back like she was worried that whatever she could smell might spread.

“Yes, Mom…”

“Alright, well, this,” she plucked at TJ’s—no, y’know what, I’m riding this wave of confidence from coming out to Jonah; this was my hoodie now, “needs to go in the wash. Come on, chop-chop, I’m just about to start a load of colors anyway.”

With a groan, I let my Mom peel the hoodie off my body, shivering as my arms were suddenly bared to the surprisingly cold air. I immediately missed its warmth.

“Hmm… I don’t remember buying you this, sweetie. Did you Father get this for you? Since when are you a Medium, honey?” Leave it to my Mom’s eagle eye to immediately spot every possible inconsistency. My dad had seen me wearing that hoodie for three days straight without a single comment.

“Uh, no, Mom. A, uh… a friend gave it to me this weekend. I forgot my jacket on Saturday.”

“Oh well isn’t that nice, was it Jonah? That boy must have hit a growth spurt recently…”

“TJ, actually.” Just saying it out loud was enough to bring a light blush to my cheeks; luckily my Mom was too busy loading a pile of clothes into the washing machine to notice.

“Oh, right, your new friend. Well, that was sweet of him. We’ll make sure to get it nice and clean so you can give it back to him,” she turned to smile at me, blowing a lock of hair from her eye. Ha, fat chance. TJ would have to take that hoodie from my cold, dead body.

Or… just put on his ‘Scary-Basketball-Guy’ face and tell me to hand it over.

I really hoped he never did that.

Speaking of ‘Scary-Basketball-Guy’ and waves of confidence…

‘Can we talk?’ The message had been sitting, unsent, in our chat all day. As my Mom started talking to herself about what my Stepdad was making for dinner, I slipped my phone out of my pocket and took advantage of every bit of positive momentum I had going for me to hit send before I could convince myself otherwise.

There.

And now we play the waiting game.

Like most games, I’m really bad at the waiting game.

I did my best to distract myself. I mean, I had a little bit of homework that kept me busy until almost dinner-time, so that kept me from checking my phone more than, like, twelve times.

And then dinner was… great. I got to explain to my Mom and Stepdad why I had decided to worry my Dad on Saturday, and why I failed to uphold my half of the ‘Cyrus gets to have a phone’ agreement. So that was fun.

And then Buffy wanted to Facetime, because apparently a quick message saying, ‘I talked to Jonah,’ was not enough detail.

“So, he was cool with it? Were you nervous?” The slightly pixelized image of Buffy’s gorgeous face stuttered across the screen as I held my phone out in front of me.

“When am I not nervous, Buffy. But yeah, he was... cool with it. He offered to be my wingman and find, y’know, guys to set me up with or whatever. I’m sure it'll be a disaster.”

“Well that’s good. I don’t care if he’s everyone’s Golden Boy, I’ll take anyone down who gives you a hard time.” She mimed punching the camera a few times and we both giggled.

“Thanks, Buff. Let’s hope it never comes to that.” With a sigh, I settled deeper into the nest of pillows and blankets I'd made for myself on my bed. The cold weather had really come on strong after sunset, and my Mom’s house took forever to warm up.

“So, are you going to tell TJ next?” I watched Buffy shift her position on the other side of the screen until she was standing. Buffy was rarely able to stay still for an entire phone call, especially so for a Facetime call.

“That’s an entirely different situation, Buffy!” I hissed, fighting the urge to look around as if TJ had a chance of popping up in the corner of my room.

“Is it, Cy? Or is it pretty much the exact same situation with one dumb boy switched out for another?” The eye roll Buffy executed as I sputtered was remarkable in both grandiosity and execution.

“Hey, don’t call TJ dumb!” I whined.

“He is dumb. And hey, by the way, so are you if you really can’t figure out that this whole dramatic silent treatment thing he’s doing is because he likes you.”

“Buffy!”

“Cyrus!” The mocking voice combined with the look on her face, daring me to disagree with her.

“Please don’t try to get my hopes up, Buffy. We both know he’s, y’know…”

“Straight? Cyrus, name one time you’ve ever seen a straight boy bring one of his friends a muffin.” Buffy fell back onto her bed with a smirk.

“That’s… That’s an unfairly specific situation, and you know it.” I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks again, adding to the warmth of my blanket cocoon.

“I stand by my argument.”

“I just don’t want to get false hope, Buffy. He’s probably gonna get a… girlfriend or whatever by Christmas, and I don’t want to be sad like I was with Jonah's dating escapades. Besides, he’s not even speaking to me right now; he hasn’t even replied to my last text.”

I watched as Buffy’s face alternated between frustration and pity before finally settling somewhere in the middle. “Just give it time, Cy. You’ll see. I mean, what would I gain from getting your hopes up? If it goes bad, I’m going to have to be the one to clean up your mopey butt.”

“Buffy, it’s just—”

”Look, did I ever tell you stuff like this when your crush was on Jonah?”

“No…”

“Because, as we’ve recently confirmed, that would have ended poorly.” Buffy sounded like she did whenever she was coaching one of her teammates through something basketball-related. Like this was all something super obvious, and she didn't fully understand why I couldn't get it like she did.

Buffy wasn't the, um... best teacher.

“Actually… Jonah and I didn’t really talk about if, y’know, I had a chance…”

“Focus, Cy, one boy at a time.”

“That’s not what I’m saying!”

“Yeah, well, what I’m saying is… trust me. After all, I’m never wrong!” Buffy’s smile looked especially cocky as she shifted to be lying on her stomach.

“Yeah, well—”

“Cyrus! I need your help downstairs, honey!” My Mom’s impressively powerful voice easily made itself heard through the door to my room.

“Alright, I have to go Buffy! Talk to you tomorrow!” Before my best friend could sneak in any more remarks about TJ, I ended the call and fought myself out of my pile of warmth.

Buffy didn’t know what she was talking about. She may have the uncanny ability to predict the rise and fall of straight relationships, but she had no idea of how different things were over here in the gay end of the spectrum. Learning to tell the difference between which boys were straight and just nice, and which boys might actually be flirting with me was going to be the most important lesson in my romantic life. And TJ was just…

Everything pointed to him being straight. Everything except the hair. He was a star athlete, a tough guy, sometimes even a bit of a bully. He was super self-confident and completely lacking in self-awareness. If I was trying to construct a teenage boy who I could be one-hundred percent confident in his heterosexuality, those would be the characteristics I would choose!

And, yeah, maybe he acted differently around me compared to... anyone else. Maybe he was nicer and more open with me, and maybe he struggled with recognizing my personal space, but there were other possible explanations for that. I mean, he was always going to have to treat me different than his other friends. They were mostly cocky jocks like him who loved sports, and that would never have worked as the basis of our friendship. Plus, TJ and I had a special connection over our ‘stuff.’

That was probably what was going on.

I just… I couldn’t let myself think that Buffy was right. That was just too dangerous.

I made my way down to my Mom, only to be directed to the pile of folded laundry by her feet. “Your things are on top, dear, but take the whole thing up, will you? Just leave the basket with my stuff by the foot of my bed.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Thank you, dear.”

The hoodie was right on top, and I couldn’t help but breathe in deeply as lifted the surprisingly heavy basket. It didn’t smell like anything special anymore, just like my Mom’s favorite brand of detergent.

I tried not to let myself be disappointed by that.

As I was putting my clothes away—and seriously debating putting the hoodie back on—I heard my phone vibrate on the bed behind me. Figuring it was Buffy trying to get in one last remark, I ignored it in favor of brushing my teeth and doing the rest of my nightly ritual. It wasn’t until I was fully re-wrapped in my cocoon of warmth that I gave in and unlocked my phone.

It wasn’t from Buffy.

‘I don’t know, can we?’

As I was reading TJ’s message, I saw the typing bubble pop up and disappear twice before finally deciding to stay gone.

Well, I guess this is happening.

‘I’d like to.’

The bubble popped back up almost immediately, staying there for nearly a minute, teasing me as those three dots faded in and out. I could feel my heart starting to get excited, it was like my life was inexorably connected to those dots. And then they disappeared.

'You sure? Seems like there's a lot of things I'm not allowed to hear. Just sayin.'

Talk about going straight for the knockout. TJ was not messing around, here, and reading that felt like a real punch in the gut.

'Yes I'm sure. Please, let me explain myself?' I set my phone down and let out a long breath. Almost immediately, it vibrated against my leg. Guess I had his attention...

'Fine. Go ahead.'

Oh, man, that was... he must be really upset to be going that aggressively. Had I really screwed up that badly? I thought TJ had understood, after our talk on Sunday, that there was something I didn't feel comfortable telling him. He was the one that promised he wouldn't dig any deeper. What had changed between Sunday evening and Monday lunch-time? Had he changed his mind? Clearly, this had become a really big deal to him.

Clearly, this was something I shouldn't try to fix over text. 

'In person? Tomorrow after school?'

'I have bball practice.' The response came before I could even set my phone down.

'After?'

'It's going to be a long one.'

'That's ok. I'll wait.'

The typing bubble popped back up, but when it disappeared a few seconds later, no message followed it. I sat on my bed, wrapped up in the warmth of all of my house’s spare blankets, watching the screen for what must have been ten minutes. But the bubble never came back.

I guess that was it.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

That wave of confidence, the high I felt after successfully working things out with Jonah... that didn't last. By the time I woke up Wednesday morning, my nerves were back and better than ever. All I could think about was talking with TJ, and all my body wanted to do when I thought about it was run as far away as possible.

My notes for every class were completely useless. After a few words, they just devolved into the occasional scribble as my mind tuned out my teachers and went back to TJ. We had a pop quiz in Spanish, and that went... not well. But I couldn't even focus on worrying about that, because my brain was much too preoccupied with fretting about what would happen after school.

As soon as I sat down at lunch, I told Buffy what had happened after we'd hung up. After a short period of looking conflicted, and like she wanted to say something, she offered to accompany me when I went to talk to him. It sounded promising but after weighing the pros and cons, I turned her down. TJ already thought I didn't trust him; what would he think if I brought my favorite bodyguard?

I wanted it to feel like a reconciliation, not a... hostage negotiation.

The only time all day that I was able to think about something other than the boys’ basketball captain was during English. Andi had taken it upon herself to start sitting on the complete opposite side of the room from me. She waited until right as the late bell was ringing to dart into the classroom and quickly pick whatever available seat was farthest away. It was frustrating to watch, and it hurt like hell. Every time she averted her eyes from my corner of the room, I felt a twinge of pain in my heart in a way I wasn't expecting. Did she think I was so mad at her that even acknowledging my existence would lead to another blow-up? Did she not trust me as a friend to be... I don't know, civil? Had she just... given up on me?

This time, when the bell rang to end the period, I happened be standing at Mr. Telfer's desk, asking about the reading for that night—directly in Andi's path to the door. I watched her hesitate, saw her realize she had missed her chance to disappear in the initial crowd of eager students leaving the room. She looked scared, unsure of what to do, as if leaving her desk ran the risk of death. Honestly, it was starting to get a little extreme. Were my friends always this dramatic?

Within a few seconds, we were the only students left in the class as Mr. Telfer busied himself with something at his desk. He must have sensed the tension in the room, I mean, it was hard to miss the two of us silently staring at each other as all the normal students made their way to their next class. The level of discomfort on Andi's face alone was enough to make me want to flee as quickly as possible. It was too much.

This was all too much.

With a sigh, I stepped into the row of desks and cleared the path for Andi's exit.

She jumped up as soon as the opportunity presented itself, and was halfway to the door before I'd even blinked.

"Wait, Andi!"

I watched her pause, one foot out the door, hands squeezing the strap of her backpack so tight that her knuckles were white.

I had her attention. Man, if only I'd actually planned that far out, I might have come up with something more impressive to say.

"I just... I just want to talk, Andi. Can we please talk?" Andi didn't move as the words stumbled off my tongue. I stared at the back of her head as she stood frozen in the door to the classroom. A second passed, then ten seconds, then twenty. Almost a full minute of uncomfortable silence that was eventually broken by Mr. Telfer clearing his throat at his desk. And just like that, the spell was broken, and Andi was gone.

The rest of the day went by rapidly up until the final bell rang. It seemed like the school emptied out much faster than normal as I prepared myself to wait for TJ. Even Buffy, after checking one more time to make sure I didn't want her to be there, seemed to disappear in the blink of an eye. It felt like one minute we were at our lockers, and the next she was saying she’d be at The Spoon with Walker, and to call if I needed her.

And then I was alone.

I had waited for TJ—and Buffy, of course—to finish practice before. Waiting for my athletic friends to finish doing a sport I didn’t understand was nothing new. I mean, hell, my entire friendship with Jonah was built on the foundation of me sitting through all the Space Otter practices with drinks, snacks, and sunscreen always at hand. And I knew even less about Ultimate Frisbee than I did about Basketball. But, turns out waiting for a practice to finish is a lot easier when you actually get to watch the practice.

I didn't feel like that was an option this time.

I didn't want to make TJ feel awkward during his practice by sitting in the gym. I had a feeling he didn't want me cheering him on, and, to be honest, I also didn't want to make myself uncomfortable—or at least any moreso than I already was. It would be painful to be able to see TJ just to watch him ignore me, or glare at me, or... I don't know what he would do. 

That was the problem. TJ had never been mad at me before. I didn't know how he would act when we were finally in the same room.

So I sat, by myself, outside the door to the gym, silently listening to the bouncing balls and squeaking sneakers on the other side of the door. Occasionally, I could hear TJ's voice rise above the din to give an order, or make a recommendation to another boy. But mostly I just heard the boys' Coach yelling. All practice long, yelling and yelling and yelling. And TJ wasn't exaggerating when he said it would be a late practice. As the clock rounded on five, I started to get worried for the coach’s vocal chords. By five-thirty, I had to give my Mom a call to explain that I would be extra late getting home.

Yes, Mom, late again. Yes, I promise I'll keep my phone on. I'm watching TJ practice, Mom, it’s running late but I'm just at the school. Yes, Mom. Yes, Mom. Love you, Mom. I'll let you know when I'm on my way.

It wasn't until nearly six o'clock that I finally heard the coach whistle and tell the boys to circle up. The sounds coming through the door died down, and soon I couldn't even hear voices anymore. Finally, after hours of incessant bouncing balls, there was peace and quiet. I took that as my chance to move into the gym and onto the bleachers. My usual spot, and a perfect vantage point.

There was only one exit from the boy's locker room, and I was prepared to watch it like a hawk. There was no way I was going to let TJ slip past me after waiting more than two hours for him. He’s not so handsome that I’d forgive that. So I sat, heart racing, hands fidgeting with my bag, eyes trained on the door... and I waited.

I really hate waiting.

It only took a few minutes for the first boy to come out. He gave me a weird look, and I gave him a half-wave, and then he seemed to decide his phone was a more entertaining thing to look at. A few more boys came out, one of them smirked as he saw me and eagerly returned my wave, but kept walking just like all the others.

Finally, a large group of boys came out all at once, at least ten of them, roughhousing and laughing and still drenched in sweat. I stood up on the bleachers, trying to get a better angle to see if, somehow, TJ was hiding in the middle of the group, but I just couldn't see for sure. With a deep breath, I swallowed the nerves rearing up in my gut, and jogged in front of the noisy group.

"Hey, um—Hi! Hey, do you guys, uh, do you know where TJ is?"

The group’s banter faded for a second until one of the boys, whose name I didn’t remember, turned to me with a smile.

"Yeah, he's, uh, still in the locker room. You want me to get him for ya'?" The boy was only a little bit taller than me, with bright red hair and a smile that left me feeling... unsure. But his offer seemed sincere.

"Um... yeah? I guess? Did he look like he'd be out soon?" I rubbed the back of my neck, trying not to let myself be intimidated by TJ's teammates. It was tough. They were mostly taller than me, more athletic than me, and all seemd a little rough around the edges.

They reminded me of TJ from when we’d first met.

"One sec, I'll grab him. Cyrus, right?"

"Uh, yeah... you know my name?"

Without answering my question, the boy spun around and jogged back to the locker room door, shoving it open with a flourish. He turned back to look at me with a grin as he called over his shoulder, "Hey! Kippen! Cyrus is here to see you!"

The way he said my name was... weird. Like, he put a lot of emphasis on it, making it sound sing-songy. Combined with the smile on his face, and the Fact that he was staring directly at me, I found the whole thing a little unnerving.

No response.

The red-head’s smile didn't falter.

No response.

And then I heard it. Another set of footsteps. Most of the boys had continued out the door after the red-head had gone to get TJ, but one of the players who had stayed let out an extended wolf-whistle as TJ finally appeared in the doorway.

"Shut the fuck up, Monroe. You too, Simms." There was an edge to TJ's voice. He sounded frustrated as he pushed past the red-head and glared at the boy who had whistled, but the boys seemed to brush it off easily, laughing as they started moving toward the exit again.

"We'll leave you two... alone." The red-head crooned, elbowing TJ as he passed. 

"I said, shut it, Simms," TJ growled. I realized that TJ had stopped moving a few feet in front of the locker room, and I could feel him staring at me. This was it, we were really about to... to talk this out. It suddenly felt very difficult to breathe. I found myself wanting to look everywhere but his face; I was scared to look at his face. He was clearly upset, and if I saw his face I would be able to tell if it was because of me.

What would happen between us? My brain kept playing out possible futures, like it had been doing against my will all day. But I was no more sure of how things would go down than I had been that morning.

It wasn't long before I stopped hearing the squeak of shoes behind me. The echo of the door closing one last time reverberated throughout the gym, and i knew we were alone. 

I couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Hey," my voice was weaker than I wanted it to be. I’d hoped I would sound strong, and confident, and sure of myself.

"Hey," TJ's voice didn’t sound that much more confident than mine.

With a conscious attempt the swallow the lump in my throat, I built up the courage to look at my crush's face. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach going crazy as I closed my eyes tight for just a second before taking the plunge.

The second I opened my eyes and my gaze settled on TJ's face, it was like all the stress and anxiety of the day just... melted away.

It was just... TJ.

How did I ever think I could be scared of TJ? Even if he did look a little bit upset and... maybe a little scared as he returned my gaze.

Wow, crushes are powerful things, y'know?

"Wanna go to the swings?" I offered, voice suddenly stronger as I held out my hand in his direction. A peace offering.

"Yeah,” he nodded quickly before readjusting the bag on his shoulder and starting to walk.

And with the traces of a smile pulling at the edges of my mouth, I let TJ lead the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buffy is the real Ally. Well, Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I’d really appreciate it if you showed me how thankful you were for this fic, tyrus, and Andi Mack in general!


	9. Break the Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus and TJ finally talk...

It’s not an especially long walk from the school to the park. Maybe 20 minutes at most. But between TJ’s practice running late, and our surprisingly lackadaisical walking speed it was already getting dark by the time we started our journey. The sun was low in the sky as we pushed through the front doors of the school, a deep orange washed everything around us in a warmth that the weather was not willing to reciprocate. 

“Aren’t you gonna get in trouble with your Mom, or somethin’?” TJ half turned to direct his question to me as I walked a few steps behind him.

“Why would I get in trouble with my Mom? Wait, were we not supposed to be in the school that late? Oh crap, if Metcalf has to call my parents again I’m so—”

“What? No, I mean...” TJ nodded his head in the direction of the setting sun, “there’s no way you’ll be home by seven if we’re going to the park.”

“Oh...” I quickened my pace a bit until I was essentially next to TJ. I had been expecting a long, quiet, contemplative walk where trailing behind TJ would be appropriately dramatic; if we were gonna chat I much preferred to be right there next to him.

Okay, I always preferred to be right next to him.

“No, I think I’ll be okay tonight. I told her where I was and this time my phone isnt off, so... we’re good!” I flashed TJ the brightest smile I could muster. “Besides, I said we were gonna talk, and I plan on keeping my word!”

“Whatever, just don’t get grounded this weekend, dude,” I thought I saw the faintest upturn of the edge of TJ’s lips, but he turned away from me and I lost sight of it in the dying light.

“I’m willing to bite that bullet, if I have to.” Just talking to TJ again, even if it did feel a bit... stilted, it still felt good. I hadn’t realized how empty my head had felt without having TJ’s voice bouncing around inside. 

It was weird. As much as my heart was beating like mad, and my palms were getting clammy, my anxiety wasn’t what I was focusing on. All I could think about was how comfortable it felt, being in the same space as the former bully. I really hoped TJ felt something similar.

Silence fell between us, but it didn’t worry me for once. I knew he still wanted to talk with me. And besides, I wanted our big reconciliation to happen at the swingsets, not on some random sidewalk. It just felt wrong to do it anywhere else. So we walked side by side in silence, occasionally brushing arms and bumping into each other as we made our way.

And I loved every second of it.

The sun had disappeared by the time the entrance to the park came in view, and with it, the last vestiges of its warmth. As a gust of wind started to play with the dead leaves around us, I couldnt keep myself from shivering despite my long sleeves and jeans. Again, I was not built for the cold!

“Almost there,” I muttered, zipping my hoodie all the way up. I turned to see TJ shivering as well, arms crossed tight across his chest. “Assuming we dont freeze to death first.”

“So, are you ever gonna give me back my hoodie, or is that a lost cause by this point?” Despite another gust of wind, I watched as TJ resolutely refused to zip up his own jacket, even though he was wearing nothing but a sweaty t-shirt from practice underneath it.

Maybe Buffy was right. Maybe TJ wasn’t the brightest bulb.

“If this conversation-slash-talk-slash-heart-to-heart goes the way I hope it does, then no; you will never get it back.” Maybe it was too soon for me to try bantering like that, but I couldn’t help trying to inject a little Cyrus Goodman-brand humor to cut the awkwardness. I looked over, and in the faint light from the nearest lamps, I saw what might have been a tint of a blush on TJ’s cheeks.

It was probably just from the cold, though.

And I probably didnt hear TJ whisper, “good...” under his breath either. That was probably just the wind...

“Besides,” I jumped in front of the basketball captain, trying to ignore my own blushing cheeks as I reached for his jacket, “you clearly don’t know how to wear one of these.”

The confused look on TJ’s face left me with no option but to roll my eyes and set myself to zipping up his hoodie for him, pushing past his many sputtering objections.

“What are you—hey! Woah! Wait, I can... oh. Um, thanks, Underdog...” his voice softened as I finally got the tabs to catch at the bottom of his jacket.

“It’s no good for us to make up if you’re just gonna die from hypothermia on the walk home,” with a huff, I pushed the zipper up to his neck and flashed him a smile. “C’mon, we’re almost to our destination!”

“I haven’t seen you this confident in a while...” TJ jogged a few feet until he could fall into step beside me again.

“Well, I had three hours of waiting outside the gym to be a nervous wreck, so I’m sorta running on the fumes of my normal anxiety here.” I purposely bumped my shoulder into TJ as we finally stepped into the sand surrounding the swingset. “Besides, I’ve got... faith.”

And an overpowering crush.

“Well, we’re here,” TJ shifted his weight from foot to foot next to me as we stood at the edge of the sand, a few feet away from the actual swings.

“Y’know, one day, there might actually be little kids who want to use these swings. What would we do then?” 

I’m not stalling. You’re stalling.

“Considering the park technically closes at sunset,” TJ started walking towards one of the swings with a long exhale, “I think we’re good for tonight.”

Not waiting for me to respond, he hopped onto the green plastic seat, facing away from me. As the wind died down, the creaks and groans of the old swingset became especially loud in the freezing cold night. Watching TJ sitting there, quietly swaying back and forth from gentle swings of his legs, I was astounded at how... lonely he looked. Even in the dark, with him facing away from me, I could see the slight drooping of his shoulders, the way his hands were gripping the chains so tight that his knuckles were white. My mind flashed back to Monday, but the image of TJ angrily pulling his hood over his head as he rushed to get away from me suddenly felt so far away. It was clear that anger was gone, replaced by... something else.

“I’m sorry.” I don’t know how long I stood there staring at TJ’s back, but as I noticed more and more about the boy in front of me, the urge to break the silence had become too strong to resist. “I’m really sorry, TJ.”

I watched as the tension in the older teen’s body seemed to break, and with a sigh I made my way to the swing next to him.

“Why are you apologizing...” TJ muttered. “I’m the one who’s been a giant, y’know... jerk.” Caught off guard, I looked across the few feet of space separating the two of us. TJ was staring straight ahead, biting at his bottom lip with a frustrated look on his face.

“Cause... I’m the one who hurt your feelings in the first place,” I heard my voice coming out more strained than I wanted. This was not how I expected this to start off. “Because I didn’t tell you... I was a bad friend and wasn’t completely open with you, TJ. And I’m sorry for that.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, Underdog,” TJ kicked up some sand, watching it fall a few feet in front of him. “I won’t freak out on you again, I promise. I... I get it.”

“You... get it?” My brain started racing. What did that mean? Did it mean he ‘got’ what I was hiding from him? Did he guess that I was gay? What... what did he know?

“Yeah, I...” the blond let out a long breath before turning to face me, a sad look on his face, “You and Driscoll—er, Buffy have been friends like, forever. Compared to that, I’m just... It was stupid of me to think that you should trust me as much as... her.” 

“Wait, TJ—”

“No, it’s okay Underdog. Really. If anything this whole thing was just more proof that I don’t deserve your... trust,” TJ wasnt looking me in the eyes, and despite his strong posture I could tell he was forcing himself to sound stronger than he was feeling. “I know I’ve been an... asshole—sorry, but yeah, I’ve been an asshole. Between Buffy, and how I’ve treated all your friends at some point, and now this...” I heard him inhale deeply before continuing, “Just, I promise I’m gonna try to do better, okay? Please, I just...”

TJ’s voice faltered, and my heart broke. This was not how I wanted this to go. I wanted to be the one to apologize, to say my piece and ask for forgiveness. TJ opening up like this was not what I was prepared for. And I didn’t know how to handle that, I didn’t even know how to repond.

“TJ, I...”

“Please, Underdog. I’m so... pissed at myself. I hate that I let myself get so angry at you. Just because I was insecure about you being closer with Buffy than with me... and then I was a dick to you again last night! What the hell did I think was I doing? My sister had to frickin’ steal my phone and call me out on it before I realized...” he paused to take a deep breath, “um, realized what a huge jerk I was being.” TJ’s voice sounded more and more strained with every word. I wanted to stop him, to calm him down, but before I could say anything his eyes finally locked with mine. There was so much intense emotion, and self-awareness, and uncertainty in those gray-blue eyes that my words died in my throat. 

I knew I had to let him finish.

“I know my insecurity isnt an excuse; it wasn’t an excuse with Buffy on the team, and it isnt now. But please, Cyrus, give me one more chance,” his voice cracked and I saw his a desperation in his eyes that I’d never seen before. Like the idea of me not giving him another chance was something he couldn’t stand to think about. “I promise I’ll earn your trust back. Just, please... you’re the only person I can... the only one I can talk to like this.”

The world fell silent as TJ stopped talking; the wind had died down and everything outside our swingset seemed to have disappeared into the darkness of the night. TJ never broke his stare, and I began to feel overwhelmed by its intensity. The emotions, the words, this whole week had just been so... much. And it wasn’t even over! Because I couldn’t just leave it like that.

I’d never really understood why TJ wanted to be friends with me. I didn’t know if it was a fluke, or some weird form of charity, or just the result of a random whim of his. I was always ready for it to end just as fast as it’d begun. But as I sat on that swing, looking into the eyes of a boy who had just poured his heart into an apology, it finally clicked. TJ wasnt my friend because of some misplaced sense of pity. TJ was my friend because he trusted me. He trusted me more than he trusted anyone else. He trusted me with his discalculia, he trusted me with his insecurity, and he trusted me with his apology. And it was time for me to show him that his trust hadn’t been misplaced.

My words spilled out of my mouth before I could even think them through.

“I do trust you, TJ. I trust you so much and this... this whole thing? It’s just made me trust you even more. Please, please don’t think I’m upset with you,” I could feel tears welling up behind my eyes as I tried to match the intensity of TJ’s stare, “I’ve been freaking out all week because I thought I screwed everything up like I always do... all because I was scared of... of telling you some—”

“You don’t have to tell me Underdog,” TJ whispered.

“But I want to! I really, really want to! Like, more than I’ve ever wanted to tell anyone else!” As the words spilled out of my mouth, it was like they were making themselves into truth. I did want to tell TJ. I wanted to confide in him, tell him my biggest secret. I wanted to celebrate it with him! I wanted to come out to TJ!

I’d never wanted to come out before. I’d always done it only because I felt I had to. This was exciting!

But as I looked at my crush’s face, I saw how tired and stressed and sad he still looked. I saw how drained he was.

I wanted it to be a happy occasion when I came out to TJ. Not one that would be stressful for us to remember.

Tonight was not the night.

“I want to tell you, but... tonight has already been too much, I think.” After a brief pause, TJ nodded and for the first time since he sat on the swing, looked at me with a sheepish smile. “If you’ll forgive me one last time, I promise I’ll tell you... this weekend! Yeah, that should work. C’mon, pinky promise.”

I reached across the gap between us, extending my pinky in the ultimate sign of friendship a boy can offer.

“Yeah...” I saw the smile on TJ’s face grow, still tired but impressive and heartstopping nonetheless. “And I promise to keep my, um, myself... under control.”

Closing the gap, TJ wrapped his considerably longer pinky around mine. I felt a smile growing on my face as we shook on it, sealing our deal. 

As I fought back a giggle at the ridiculousness of the situation—of the whole night, really—I felt TJ squeeze my pinky again. The other boy’s smile took on a new look, one I couldn’t quite decipher in my exhaustion. I felt another squeeze, and I let my eyes leave his beautiful face and trail down his arm to where our hands hung between us, still joined by our pinkies. The pinky promise was complete, and yet there we were. Still linked together.

There was no way it was just my imagination this time.

In the cold of the night, as the world around us hurtled ever faster towards winter, where TJ’s finger gently squeezed mine it felt like I was three inches from the midsummer sun. I felt no chill from the wind as I did the same, squeezing back as a soft smile crept onto my face. I was blushing, I’m sure, but I didn’t feel like I needed to hide it. There was only one thought making sense of itself in the cacophonous reaches of my tired brain.

What if it was more than just pinkies?

As if he could read my mind, I felt the rest of TJ’s fingers nudge hesitantly againt my own. I watched, dumbfounded, as he reached his hand a few inches farther and started to—

My ringtone blasted into the night, loud as a nuclear detonation, and suddenly we were just two boys on a swing. Completely separate entities, hands hanging lamely at our sides.

“That’s, um... It’s my mom,” I forced out, barely able to make a whisper. “I’ve got to get home...”

“Yeah, uh... me too.” 

With a sigh and some non-too-subtle shivering, we both stood and silently began walking to the exit nearest my Mom’s house. I busied myself with replying to her message, assuring her I would be home within 20 minutes, and definitely not staring at TJ’s hand out of the corner of my eye. 

Had that really happened?

Finally, as we neared the exit, TJ broke the silence.

“So, uh... this weekend?” The blond mused.

“Um, yeah....”

“Guess it’s gonna be pretty busy for us, huh?”

“Yea—wait, busy?”

“I mean, with your thing, on top of the studying and baking and movies and stuff, we’re gonna have plenty to do when you sleep over on Saturday,” the older teen chuckled and hefted his bag on his shoulder. 

“When I what?”

“Sleep over, Underdog! Alright, I gotta go. See you tomorrow!” And with a grin that I was too dumbstruck to truly appreciate, TJ turned on his heel and began jogging away.

When I what?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to write this whole thing on my phone. May not post another chapter til my computer is fixed, because that was horrible. Apologies for the not amazing quality of... all of it.


	10. Happy to Lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy, Jonah, and Cyrus catch up together.

'So, I know it's not Halloween, but horror movie marathon on Sat?'

'Horror? Really? Do you want me to re-christen you 'Scary-Basketball-Guy'? Do you want to spend all night watching me cower in fear?'

'Aw c'mon Underdog, I'll be right there to keep you safe all night! And I have a ton of blankets for us to hide under together!'

What had I gotten myself into? 

Had I really been so oblivious that I'd agreed to a sleep-over at my crush's house? Did I really get so focused on making him happy that I forgot to figure out what I was saying 'yes' to? Was that really the kind of person I became when I let my heart take over for my head? Had I really fallen for a guy who thought a horror movie marathon was a fun idea?

"Why do you look like you're really disappointed in yourself?" Buffy fell into the booth opposite me, her voice knocking me out of my thoughts.

"Buffy, what have I done..." with a groan, I flipped my phone over and leaned back against The Spoon's fake-leather seat.

"Gonna have to be more specific, Champ. Has Jonah texted you yet? Do you know if they're on their way? Should I order baby taters before this whole... thing goes down?" Without waiting for my answer, Buffy started scanning the diner to catch a waiter's attention. I could hear the edge in her voice that only showed up when she was nervous. Or maybe antsy is more accurate; I don't think Buffy technically gets nervous.

I was definitely nervous, though. If Jonah followed through with his part of the plan, Andi would be walking through the door to The Spoon any minute, completely unaware that we were here to talk to her. And then the real stress would begin! I mean, who knows. Maybe Buffy was nervous after all. Maybe that's why she was distracting herself with the menu just like I was distracting myself with old texts from TJ.

"Look! Look at this!" I opened my phone back up and shoved it across the table at her, doing my best to ignore the impending stress of our situation. Apparently happy for a real distraction, Buffy immediately dropped the menu and reached for the device.

"Aw, that's... sweet?" Her hair bounced a lightly as she cocked her head and looked at me over the empty table.

"There's more," my voice squeaked and cracked as I rubbed at my eyes, "scroll up a bit, he's been like that all day." To add to the dramatic effect, I laid my head on the table as she read some of the choice selections out loud.

Such as: what did TJ want to bake during our sleep-over?

"'I know you like trip-C, Underdog, but I found these old recipes from my great-grandma and I really wanna share one of them with you. I think you'll really love it.' What is it with you two and baked goods, by the way?" Buffy scoffed. I didn't look up from the table—instead, waving my hands to signal her to keep going.

A few seconds later, the response to my question about whether his parents would be there—asked at my Mom's insistence:

"'Yeah, my whole family really wants to meet you, Underdog,' What, does he talk with them about you or something?" I shrugged, head still down, and Buffy continued reading from my phone. "'My sis especially wants to meet, but she'll be at her own sleep-over til Sunday morning. My parents will be there but don't worry, they'll stay in their room so we'll have plenty of privacy.' Well, sounds like it'll be a great sleep-over," Buffy laughed lightly. I could still hear the edge in her voice, but my misery seemed to be doing a good job of distracting her.

Finally, my favorite: why did he want me to help him study for his Monday Math test when I'm not even that great at math?

"'I feel like I can focus better when I'm around you, Underdog, like I'm more driven. You don't have to do anything, just be there with me,' Man, he... really enjoys that dumb nickname, doesn't he?"

"I told him I really liked it on Monday," I sighed, lifting my head up so that I could see the look of amusement on my best friend's face. "Buffy, what's going on here? If I didn't know better, I'd say he's..."

"Flirting?" Buffy's voice was calm, but the look on her face told me that if we were alone, she'd be loud and sarcastic.

"That's not all," my voice cracked again as my mind went back to the memory of TJ and I sitting on the swings two nights earlier. I could still feel a slight warmth where his pinky had squeezed mine as we'd sat there, one-fifth of the way to holding hands. It had actually happened, I'd decided later that night after TJ called to make sure I hadn't gotten grounded. It was a real thing, the pinky squeezes. But I hadn't told Buffy about them yet, because... what did they even mean? I'd thought about it so much that the word 'pinky' had started to sound absurd in my head. They were real, but I still questioned whether I'd just imagined seeing him try to lace together the other four-fifths of our fingers. The whole situation had changed so fast once my Mom texted, it really might have just been wishful thinking...

"What else? Because I'm just going to say it: he's definitely flirting with you, Cy." Buffy reached over the table to return my phone. The app was still open to a selfie he'd sent—smiling at me, laying in bed with his dirty blond hair un-gelled and messy—after I'd told him goodnight the night of the swings. 

Why did he have to be so pretty?

"I think we almost held hands... on Wednesday after we made up..."

"Cyrus—!"

Whatever Buffy was about to say was cut short as the bell above The Spoon's door rang out. I felt my adrenaline instantly send my nerves into a frenzy as the two of us slowly turned to look at the familiar figure standing in the door.

My eyes met Jonah's, and as he slowly shook his head and made his way over to our table, I felt a sting in my heart.

Once again, she wasn't coming.

"Sorry, guys. I think she knew something was up," Jonah rubbed the back of his neck, looking disappointed as he lowered himself into the booth next to Buffy. I could feel my adrenaline draining away as disappointment took its place. "As soon as I mentioned going to The Spoon, she got weird and said Bex had texted her to come home immediately, but I didn't hear her phone go off."

"Did you say exactly what I wrote on the cards?" Buffy asked, turning to face the sheepish looking boy next to her.

"Well, I had to improvise a little bit..." Jonah said as he fished a small stack of cards out of his pocket.

"It's okay, Jonah," I struggled to keep myself from sagging all the way under the table, despite how much I wanted to, "I know you did your best."

"Sorry, Cy-guy. I know you were counting on me, but I haven't really talked to her all week, y'know? I think she got suspicious as soon as I walked up to her."

"Well, this sucks," I sighed, "there's got to be some way to get to her before her refusal to face her mistakes destroys all of her friendships..."

An awkward silence fell between the three of us as we all looked at our hands. It really did suck. And it especially sucked because it was partially-and-or-largely my fault, not that Buffy or Jonah would ever phrase it like that. If even Jonah couldn't get through her defenses, I was running out of ideas to fix the mess I'd made by blowing up and storming out of her apartment. And if I couldn't fix this, then that would mean Andi would be all alone; Buffy, Jonah, and I would all be down one friend, and it would be all my—

"So... what were you guys talking about before I got here?" Jonah asked in an obviously forced attempt to break the silence. "It looked like you two were pretty, uh, animated."

"Just about Cyrus's crush," Buffy said dismissively while returning to her goal of flagging down a waiter.

"Buffy!" I hissed, glaring at her.

"What, Cy, he already knows... y'know. And I'm starting to think we'd all be better off if we stopped hiding our crushes from each other. That's the root cause of, what, 95% of this month's drama? Honestly, I'm getting tired of it." The look on her face challenged me to argue with her as one of the waiters approached. I held my glare, silently, as she placed our orders as if nothing was wrong. As soon as the waiter stepped away, she returned my glare with no lack of confidence. She didn't even have to ask if I thought she was wrong, I could see the teasing question in her eyes.

I hate when she's right. It always seems to come at my expense.

"Fine. I was going to tell him soon enough anyway..." I relented against Buffy's glare and started to sink down in my seat again. Beside her, Jonah looked completely perplexed.

"Thank you, finally we can be done with all these annoying secrets. Now, Jonah," Buffy turned to the brunet again, a satisfied look in her eyes "you're a boy. If you were to... tell someone that you would keep them safe from scary movies, and be with them if they need to hide under the blankets—are you more likely to say that to a... friend? Or to someone you were... flirting with?"

"Buffy!" I whined, trying to blindly kick her under the table. I felt my foot connect with something, but Jonah was the one who flinched. "Oops, sorry, Jo."

"Well," Jonah winced, reaching down to rub at his shin, "um, if I'm being honest, I think I said that exact thing to Andi once when we were just starting to date. And it was, uh... it was definitely flirting. Why? Did you... are you trying to flirt with someone, Cy-guy? Do you need my help?" Jonah's face perked up as he spoke. It was like his wingman senses were tingling.

"No, I think I've been flirting without realizing it for... for a while now, apparently. And I think I'm doing an okay job, believe it or not. No, she wasn't asking about me, it was..." I felt my voice catch my throat. Even if I had agreed to this, it still felt weird treating my crush as something that was just... normal. It felt like it was something I should only speak of in whispers, in dark rooms behind locked doors; definitely not calmly, in the middle of a busy dinner, with someone who used to be one of my crushes themselves. But, if I wanted my love life to feel like it does for everyone else my age, I guess this sort of normalizing gossip-discussion would have to be a thing.

Across the table, Jonah smiled at me eagerly as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. And honestly, seeing those dimples did make it easier.

Maybe cute boys have a little too much power over me.

"It's something TJ sent me," I shrugged, choosing to look at the very shiny napkin dispenser instead of Jonah or Buffy.

"See, was that so hard?" Buffy teased.

"TJ, like... TJ Kippen the basketball captain?" Jonah clarified, sounding very confused.

"Yup," I confirmed, "that's the one."

"As in the basketball captain who our very own Cyrus Goodman apparently held hands with," my best friend crooned at a thankfully low volume.

"Almost!" I hissed, trying and failing to kick Buffy's leg again. "It's a very important adverb!"

"Wait, did I miss something?" Jonah still sounded lost, looking back and forth between me and Buffy. "Is TJ, um... you know..."

"You're allowed to say the word, Jonah. Gay." Even as I admonished Jonah, I couldn't keep my own voice from going quieter as I said the word myself. I felt like a hypocrite, but I winced and pressed on. "It's not, like, offensive or anything as long as you're not using it to make fun of someone. Not that I've ever heard you use it to make fun of someone, but, um... I guess this is just a preemptive request to not do that from your good friend, Cyrus Gayman—er, Goodman. But otherwise, yeah it's... okay."

"Oh! Um, okay, Cy-guy. So, is TJ gay?"

"No..." I sighed, "at least, probably not." That's really what it all comes down to, isn't it? The 'probably.' No matter how nice, or flirty, or almost-hand-hold-y, or anything TJ was... he probably wasn't gay. It was just statistics. I'd done the math. The chances that I'd get lucky on my second go-round were not very good.

"So says you," Buffy scoffed. 

"But... you have a crush on him?" 

"No point in denying it anymore," I wanted to sound dramatic, but I couldn't keep the smile out of my voice as the reality of being able to be open with Jonah settled on me. It made me a lot happier than I expected, seeing Jonah smile as I talked freely about my crush on a boy. "Yeah, I do. I have a crush on TJ Kippen. Despite my best instincts."

"That's cool, Cy. Sorry, I never got to, uh, know him all that well," Jonah rubbed the back of his neck and offered an apologetic smile. "I don't think I can give you any advice on how to get him to like you. Unless... I could try to teach you to play basketball?"

"I don't think that'll be necessary," Buffy interjected, "If I had to put my money on it, I'd bet that Mr. Hair Gel is already crushin' pretty hard on Mr. Goodman, here. Especially now that I know about this whole... hand holding thing—almost hand holding, I know, Cy! I think Cyrus is just too scared to admit the truth."

"Of course I'm scared. But I also think you're crazy," I shook my head and smiled at my friends.

"I bet we'll know for sure after this weekend."

"What do you mean?" Jonah and I both asked at the same time. We shared a smile as Buffy rolled her eyes.

"You're planning on coming out to TJ this weekend, right?"

"You are? That's awesome, Cy! Let me know if you need any help. You can practice with me if you want." Jonah flashed a full force smile and gave me two thumbs up. Man, he really is quite endearing. If this whole thing with TJ does blow up in my face, maybe I should...

No! Bad Cyrus! Snap out of it! Don't be distracted by the dimples. We've been down this path before.

"Yeah, well I don't really have a choice. He knows I have a big secret, and I promised to tell him this weekend. Plus, I'm really bad at lying guys. Man, I really backed myself into a corner, didn't I?"

"Well..." Buffy drew out the syllable before taking a deep breath. "I'll bet you a week's—no, make it two week's worth of milkshakes, that after you tell TJ... he'll come out to you within a week."

"You think you can afford all the depression milkshakes I'll need after my hopes get flushed down the drain?" I joked. What? If I can't find solace and comfort in self-deprecating humor, what's the point of all of this? I'll go insane, I tell ya'!

"I just can't wait to drain your wallet and watch you freak out when you can't afford to take Mr. Basketball on a date," Buffy shot back, a wicked smile on her face.

"You guys are so weird," Jonah laughed as Buffy and I stared each other down across the table. Sparks flew between us, as we refused to drop our gaze, even as the waiter brought us our food.

Was this a horrible thing to bet on? Probably.

Was it going to backfire, somehow? Spectacularly.

Still...

"You're on."

I grabbed my first baby tater off my plate, and savored it with a smile. 

This was a bet I'd be happy to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, not much plot progression this chapter. But it was fun to write, and I should be able to get a few more chapters out this week. Show your love! Comments, bookmarks, kudos, those are all amazing! But if you really love this story, recommend it to someone else (on tumblr for example). I'd really appreciate it!


	11. Code Word: Swingset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TJ and Cyrus meet up, and it's time to get this sleep over started!

It's been a while since I'd been invited to a sleepover.

Andi, Buffy, and I used to have them all the time, as best friends are wont to do when they're young and school is still easy. They were never anything special—I mean, half of them weren't even planned ahead of time—but it was always a nice experience, spending an entire night together watching movies and eating snacks and dishing gossip. It was an especially welcomed escape the year my parents got divorced, because it meant a night where I didn't have to worry about seeing them argue, or not talk to each other, or try to make me choose sides. But in fifth grade, my Mom and CeCe both found out that there were kids our age who were already "dating"—as much as a 10-year-old can date—and suddenly I wasn't allowed to be behind closed doors with Andi or Buffy, much less sleep over.

Those restrictions only started getting relaxed in the past year or so, I guess as it became increasingly obvious that there was no risk of us doing anything... improper. But we still haven't had a real sleepover since the original ban.

Funnily enough, once my parents were assured that we wouldn't be home alone, they had no problem with me sleeping over at TJ's house. They... they really missed the mark with that, didn't they?

Not that anything inappropriate is going to happen!

We had agreed to meet up at the basketball courts at the park, so I wasn't all that surprised to find TJ, y'know, playing basketball as I arrived a few minutes early. Not wanting to interrupt what looked to be a very intense game between him and three other boys, I found a comfortable place under a tree to sit and set down the oversized bag I'd been struggling with all the way to the park.

They must have been playing for some time before I arrived because TJ had already worked up a sweat despite the biting chill of the air. It was fun, watching him play, even if I only had the barest idea of what was going on. His enthusiasm made it fun. At the very least, I knew that getting the ball in the basket meant scoring points, and it seemed like the basketball captain was doing that more than anyone else. I only recognized one of the other three boys, the red-head who had gotten TJ after their practice on Wednesday—Simm, TJ had called him. The other two—an athletic boy with floppy blond hair, and a skinny kid with dark brown hair—didn't look like anyone I knew from school.

"Booyah!" TJ's voice echoed out as he got the ball in the hoop from particularly far away. Maybe it was one of those 'three-pointers' him and Buffy kept trying to get me to understand. 

Whatever it was, he seemed excited, so I decided to break my silence and let out a cheer. I giggled lightly as TJ's head whipped around, eyes searching the edges of the court as the game continued on behind him, before finally finding me off to the side under my tree. Waving eagerly at him, I saw a soft smile grow across his lips as the tension from the game melted from his shoulders and he happily returned the gesture. There was that smile I'd missed so much when we weren't talking, the one that made me feel warmer just seeing it.

I really liked his smile.

TJ took a few steps towards me, looking like he was about to call out something when—out of nowhere—he was thrown to the ground by Simms slamming into him from behind at full speed.

"Oh, crap!" I scrambled from my spot under the tree and started running to where TJ and the other boy had fallen into an angry heap of arms and legs.

"Get off!" I could hear TJ's pained voice over the curses of the red-head struggling to clamber to his feet.

"What the hell, Kippen?" Simms panted out, checking himself for injuries after he pushed himself back up to standing. "Get lost in a freakin' daydream or..." his voice faded as I finally reached TJ's side, kneeling down beside the still-wincing blond. "Ah... I see."

"Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? Bleeding? Do you feel like you're bleeding? I have bandages if you're bleeding." TJ didn't look too bad, but what if there was something I just couldn't see? Scrapes, bruises, swelling, I searched everywhere I could see for any sign of an injury, but it's not like I was trained for this!

"Yeah," TJ sucked in a breath through his teeth, but still tried to smile at me as he pushed himself back up to standing, "I'm good, Underdog. Just, uh... just banged around a bit." Despite the look on his face clearly trying to tell me not to worry, I couldn't help it. Worrying is sorta what I do. 

"You good, Kippen?" the other blond had jogged over with the ball in his hands, closely followed by the brunet. "That looked nasty."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good."

"Alright, sweet. Your ball." The blond tossed the ball towards TJ, but it was intercepted by Simms who jumped up and snatched it from the air. 

"Actually, Reed, I think that's game. We win, twenty-seven to twenty-two."

"What? He said he's fine, you can't just call 'game' because you're finally winning for once," the blond—Reed, I guess—looked confused and upset. And I got that. I was confused and upset by sports things all the time. I paused in my inspection of the back of TJ's head to try to catch his eye, but he seemed to be focused on Simms, who was trying and failing to spin the ball on one of his fingers.

"Yeah, I can. 'Cause Kippen's about to become a useless fool out here if he's not planning on just ditchin' us." As he said that, Simms turned to smirk at the two of us with a wink before turning back to Reed. I could see TJ's jaw clench.

"How you gonna call Kippen useless when he's hit twice the baskets you have?" Reed scoffed, looking at the brown-haired boy beside him like Simms had just said something ridiculous.

"Well, now he's got his biggest fan—"

"Actually," beside me, I could hear TJ let out a deep breath and a little bit of tension ran out of his shoulders, "yeah, Cyrus and I are heading out. See you later, guys."

As soon as my name left TJ's mouth, Reed did a double-take as if he was somehow noticing me for the first time. The frown that had grown on his face as he'd argued with Simms quickly flipped into an impressively large smile. With a laugh, he walked over to stand a few feet away from us, looking me up and down with his impressively blue eyes the entire time. "Oh, shit! Is this the infamous Cyrus?"

"Uh... yeah?" I was a little surprised by how happy this Reed kid was to meet me, but I put out a hand to introduce myself anyway. Even in awkward situations, my parents' politeness training ran deep. "That would be me. Um... Hi?"

"Hell yeah, you are," ignoring my hand, Reed chucked as he pulled me into a side-hug, which I was not prepared for at all. "We finally get to meet you! I was starting to think that Kippen was embarrassed by us."

"Huh?"

"Of course I'm embarrassed," I heard the edge in TJ's voice, and suddenly his hand was grabbing my wrist and tugging me out of Reed's grasp, pulling me closer to his side. "You're the biggest dumba—idiots I know."

"We're not good enough for him, Kippen?" Simms crooned, stepping over to stand next to the quiet brown-haired boy.

Clearly something was going on. The atmosphere on the court was tense enough that my anxiety was flaring up. Something was happening between Reed, Simms, and TJ that I wasn't aware of. Something other than the words being said. Beside me, I knew TJ's shoulders were tense, and he kept letting out long exhales with every breath as if he was trying to calm himself down. Simms was looking between Reed and TJ, a devilish smirk on his face. Obviously, he knew what was going on. Meanwhile, Reed just looked so comically hurt by what TJ was saying, while at the same time never taking his eyes off me.

And while all of those were clearly very important hints as to what was going on, I couldn't pay attention to any of them.

Because TJ hadn't let go of me yet. My mind was completely focused on the feeling of TJ's long fingers wrapped in fully around my wrist, jolts of electricity shooting up and down my arm every time I felt him shift slightly. 

"Aww, c'mon Tiberius Jefferson, aren't you going to introduce us?" Reed asked with an exaggerated pout.

For a second, there was a tense silence. The silent brown-haired boy shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking as confused and uncomfortable as I felt. Beside me, I could feel TJ tensing up even more, his grip on my wrist getting a little tighter as he took in a deep breath, and then—

"That has got to be the dumbest name you've ever guessed, Reed." In an instant, all the tension in the air disappeared as I heard TJ chuckle. I ripped my eyes away from the other boys as they all visibly relaxed so that I could watch as TJ struggled to bite back his laughter.

"Well, you won't respond when I guess normal names, asshole. What other options do I have?" TJ let go of my wrist—which was disappointing—to step between me and the other boys as he rolled his eyes.

"You could just try not guessing," he shrugged, before turning around to face me with a smile. "Alright, let's get this over with. Underdog, you probably know Brian Simms from school; these other two fools go to Quentin, but I know them from dirt biking. This is Lester," he pointed at the silent brunet, who nodded at me, "and Reed."

"Glad to finally put a face to a name," Reed's smile widened and offered his hand, which I hesitantly accepted. "Muffin guy, right? TJ's told us all about you."

I looked over at TJ, who shrugged and looked at his feet. "I talk about you."

He talks about me? What does that mean? That's... that's a good thing, right? As far as I know, the only people who have ever talked about me when I wasn't around are my parents, and occasionally Andi and Buffy. So I think it's a good thing.

Yay!

"So you two are heading out somewhere?" Reed asked, still gripping my hand with his own.

"We've got, uh... sleepover plans," I explain, trying to pull my hand out of his surprisingly strong grasp without making it too obvious. I looked back at TJ, hoping to get his confirmation, but was distracted again, staring blankly at the space between me and Reed. 

"Nice," Simms clapped, snapping TJ out of his daydream as Reed finally dropped my hand.

"Uh, yeah. We gotta get going, though." Flashing another big smile TJ stepped between us again and pulled Reed in a quick side hug. "Good game, good game... kick your butts again next weekend?" 

"If Cyrus comes," Reed smiles at me over TJ's shoulder, "I'm there."

Y'know, it's been a while since I met someone new, but I feel like the last few times it happened, there wasn't this much focus on... me. It's a weird experience; I'm really not used to being the center of attention. Especially not in a group of people. Groups of people are usually when I do my best job disappearing, fading into the background until I hear something that needs my input. But they way Reed was looking at me, that friendly smile still on his face even as TJ pushed him away... for some reason I got the feeling he wasn't planning on letting me disappear.

Maybe that's just how he treats everyone he meets?

"Uh, yeah, sure... I'll be there." Honestly, any excuse to spend my time with TJ was something I would probably agree with. Even if it was just to watch him play basketball with his friends. Maybe we could get baby taters at The Spoon afterward!

"Awesome. Well, good to meet you Cyrus. Are ya sure you don't—"

"Alright!" TJ's voice rang out louder than usual, sounding slightly strained again. "Let's get going, Underdog. You need help with your stuff?" Without waiting for my reply, TJ jogged over to the tree to grab my oversized bag, visibly struggling to lift it up onto his shoulder.

Rolling my eyes, I gave the other boys a quick but polite goodbye before following TJ to the tree where I had been sitting.

"Jeez, you pack your whole room into this thing?"

"Just the essentials," I shrugged. "Clothes, toothbrush, homework—you said we were gonna do homework, right?—snacks, some board games, and a first aid kit."

"Just the essentials, huh?" TJ adjusted the bag on his shoulder, flashing me a sarcastic smile. Behind us, I could hear the Reed and Lester start playing basketball again. TJ finally seemed to fully relax as he heard the bouncing of the ball fill the court once again. "Sorry about them," he muttered as we started our walk towards the park exit.

"No need to apologize," I grinned, falling into step next to him.

"Reed can, uh... weird sometimes. He's cool, but he's never really understood, like, boundaries. Or rules of any kind. Just don't let him get too weird, or he'll never stop."

"Oh... Well, regardless, I'm glad I finally met some of your friends! Even Reed. Now I know you're not just sitting alone in a dark room whenever we're not hanging out."

"Hey! I have friends! What happened to the days where you thought I was Mr. Popular just because I was captain of the basketball team?"

"I got to know you better," I said, doing my best to imbue my words with as much sarcasm as possible.

"Oof!" TJ smiled as we both laughed.

"Anyway, with all the things my friends have put you through, I think I can put up with one of yours being a little overly friendly."

"Overly friendly..." he scoffed, readjusting my bag, "Yeah, that works. So, forgetting about Reed now, are you ready for this, Underdog?"

"Huh? Oh, the sleepover, yeah! I'm super excited. I haven't gotten to do one of these in years!"

"Same, honestly," we made our way out onto the street, and as TJ turned left I realized that he was going to have to lead the way because I had no idea how to get to his house. I'd never been to his house before! How did I just realize that at that very moment? "So what do you want to do first? I've got some awesome movies picked out. Which do you prefer, monsters or ax murder—"

"Baking! Let's start with baking! Baking sounds good! You said you had a recipe, right? Well, let's do that instead."

TJ burst out laughing as my voice squeaked its way through my suggestion. "Aw, c'mon Underdog," with a wide grin, he threw an arm over my shoulder and pulled me against his side, almost making me trip in the process. "Don't tell me you're already scared! I told you I'd protect you, didn't I?"

"You did, you did, but I don't know how much good that'll do when I haven't seen a scary movie since I was nine. Buffy swiped her mom's copy of 'The Sixth Sense,' because she knew it starred a kid, so she thought it couldn't be that scary, and she wanted me to get used to scary movies just like you do, and... it was scary, TJ. It was very, very scary. I only made it through half an hour before I ran out of the room and Buffy's mom had to call my parents to come collect me from their pantry." I could hear my voice getting strangled and high pitched as I pushed through my words as quickly as possible. Just thinking about that movie was freaking me out all over again. "I didn't sleep for two days! Do you have any idea what I'm like if I don't get enough sleep? I've been told I'm not fun to deal with."

I ended my rant and looked up at TJ, worried that I would find the disdainful face of someone who had just realized their friend was a big baby. Instead, I was met with the warmest, most affectionate smile I had ever seen on TJ's face.

"Man, that really freaked you out, huh, Underdog?"

"Yeah," I nodded, my head still pressed against his shoulder as his arm held me tight to his side. In all honesty, it was difficult to walk like this, but I could handle it if it meant this level of physical contact. "I've avoided scary movies ever since."

"If it makes you feel better, the first time I watched a scary movie, I had to sleep in my parents' bed for three weeks because I was too scared to be alone in my own room. My parents got so mad at my older brother for letting me watch it with him," TJ chuckled as if he was remembering those events fondly, somehow. "I mean, I was seven, and it was this super bloody German flick he downloaded from some sketchy site, but still."

"But now you... like them?" I asked, slowly getting my vocal cords back under control. TJ nodded, still grinning. "How'd that happen?"

"Well," TJ laughed and released me from his side so that I could finally walk normally, "my brother was this, like, a horror movie super-fan. He'd pretty much watch one every weekend. And I wanted to spend time with him. I guess it was either learn to love 'em, or regularly piss my pants in terror. Plus, I wanted to prove how brave I was. I guess that's sorta what you do when you're a little kid and someone says something is too scary."

"I never have that impulse. I don't care if people know that I'm scared. In fact, I prefer people to know, that way they don't try to make me do something that freaks me out. Doesn't seem to be working with you, though."

"Yeah, well maybe I just know how brave you are better than you do."

"And maybe you're just severely overestimating me." At that, TJ rolled his eyes before lightly punching my shoulder.

"Haven't I taught you anything about letting not letting anyone tell you what you 'can't' do? That includes yourself, Underdog. Fear only exists in the mind."

"I think my fear exists in my stomach. At least, that's usually what hurts whenever I'm scared. Though, my anxiety has given me headaches before." Before I could finish my thought, I heard TJ choke down a bout of laughter. I turned to see him biting his lip as stared at me, a huge smile on his face.

"What, I'm serious!"

"I know you are, Underdog," TJ choked out, still struggling to calm his breathing. "It's just... funny to hear you say that: 'my fear exists in my stomach.' So random!"

"Well I'm glad one of us is getting some enjoyment out of my suffering."

"Very much so," TJ let out a long, stuttery breath as he attempted to calm down. "But here, how about this. We get to my house, we make my great-grandma's chocolate ginger cookies, order pizza, and then we start a scary movie of my choice. I promise I won't choose anything too bad; I'll choose one I'm confident you can handle. And, like I said, I'll be right there with you the whole time. But, if I'm wrong—I won't be, but if I am—you just say the word and I'll switch it over to some funny cartoons. No questions asked."

I pondered his offer for a moment. I was doubtful, but maybe he was right. Maybe it was time for me to try another scary movie. Maybe I finally was strong enough to sit through a full one. Maybe being with TJ would magically fill me with courage. And, if I did get scared... TJ was really pushing this whole 'I will protect you,' thing. I'd seen TV shows where the guy brings his date to a scary movie so that he can put his arm around her and make her feel safe. If that sort of physical closeness was what TJ meant...

That was worth risking a few nights of not being able to sleep.

Not that this was a date!

"Fine," I muttered, feeling only slightly better as TJ pumped the air with his fist. "But what's the code word?"

"Huh?"

"You said I just had to say the word, and we'd switch to cartoons. So, what's that word? I want to be able to communicate 'no, really, you need to change this now before I start crying,' in as few syllables as possible, thank you very much."

"Huh, well, I guess if you're going to use one word, it should be one that wouldn't make sense to say if you're just a normal amount of scared." TJ scratched his head as we turned a corner that looked vaguely familiar. "Also, I guess it should probably be short, so you're not trying to get out 'hippopotamus,' while screaming in terror or something." 

"Yes, please. And it can't just be a random word, or we might forget what it's supposed to be," I added, slightly distracted as I looked around to try to gain my bearings. That laundromat looked familiar, and so did that Chinese restaurant. I think that was Bex's favorite place to get takeout!

"So I guess it should be a word that has some sort of... special meaning to us?" TJ's voice sounded far off, like he was talking more to himself than to me.

"Yeah, exactly." That's what looked familiar! If we'd turned right instead of left at that last corner, we would have landed right in front of Andi and Bex's apartment complex!

Man, this really is a small town.

"How about... 'Swingset?'"

"Huh?"

"For our word. Swingset. I think it fits all the criteria."

Not normal to say when I'm scared? Check.

Short? Sure, it was only two syllables.

I looked over at TJ, appreciating the proud look that had settled on his face, like he had just solved a puzzle or an especially dastardly math problem. I thought about the swingset, how we kept ending up back there, just us, always us.

Something with special meaning to both of us? I'd certainly hope so.

"Yeah," I smiled, turning my eyes forward to take in the details of the street, a new one I'd never walked down. "Swingset it is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Reed is such a smarmy asshole, he reminds me of so many charismatic kids I grew up with, and I absolutely love him. But I guess this is the first proof in the story that this all happens in a universe where 'Cookie Monster' never occurred.
> 
> 2\. It was really hard to get through this whole thing without making TJ or Cyrus actually say 'let's have a safeword,' but this is a family friendly fic, and these boys do not need to be worrying about THAT kind of safeword for a long time yet.
> 
> 3\. I realized it's been a while since we had TJ and Cyrus just... interacting without anything heavy hanging over them. It was fun to write them just having a goofy conversation. I'm excited to write more of them just... chilling.
> 
> 4\. I live off of comments and bookmarks! Help me live! Leave a comment, and Bookmark so you know when I update!


	12. First We Preheat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus finds out about TJ's family life for the first time.

"So this is your... great-grandma's recipe that we're gonna make?" TJ directed us down yet another turn onto yet another street I was unfamiliar with. The houses lining the block were an interesting alternation between old and imposing, and impressively modern, but it was hard to appreciate their beauty when my feet were starting to hurt. TJ had assured me that we were 'almost there' about five minutes before, so I was seriously hoping it was the last street. We'd been walking for more than half an hour!

"Yup! It looks really tasty,” TJ said with a slight grimace. I could tell the weight of my 'essentials' bag was starting to, um, weigh on him. I'd tried to take it back the third time he'd switched which shoulder he was carrying it with, but he had, of course, refused. At first, I think it was out of some type of weird chivalry, but judging by the poorly hidden strain on his face it had become mostly about stubbornness. TJ and Buffy were similar like that: once they'd challenged themselves it was almost impossible to get them to give in.

"Oh, have you never had them before?"

"Nah, but I really like chocolate," he paused for a brief moment to switch my bag over to his other shoulder with a small wince, "and I also like ginger. So, seems like a sweet combination, right? Half sweet and well-loved, half spicy and unexpected!"

"Huh. I mean, yeah, sounds good if you put it like that, though I'm not sure how I feel about a spicy cookie. I generally prefer my baked goods to be one-hundred percent sweet and zero percent painful."

"C'mon Underdog, what's life without a little surprise?" TJ reached over to ruffle my hair but I saw him out of the corner of my eye and ducked away from his hand. I spent a lot of time getting my hair just the way I wanted it, especially knowing that I was gonna be spending the day with TJ! Even TJ didn't get to just... mess it up!

Even if the small frown that flashed across his face for just a second almost made me grab his hand and place it on top of my head anyway.

"So... did all your great-grandma's recipes have a, uh, surprise?"

"I'm not sure, this is the only one I know. We just found her recipes last week."

"You found them? Where?" In my head, I was imagining finding an antique locked box hidden in a dusty attic, unlocked by a key that had been passed down from one generation of Kippens to another...

"Well, my Aunt found them. I dunno where. She sent a big box of them to my Mom last week, and this is the one her and my sister said I would probably like. Why?"

"Oh, um... no reason." So much for that fantasy. And so much for the fantasy where TJ had spent days combing through tomes of family recipes trying to find the perfect one to bake with me. Not that that one was ever realistic...

"Alright, well... we're here!" Relieved to finally be done walking, I turned to get my first ever glimpse of TJ's house.

"Woah..." That was an understatement, but it was also the only thing I could articulate at that moment.

The house we had stopped in front of was... well it's tough to think of a descriptor other than enormous. Set back behind a row of impressive-looking oak trees was a white-and-gray structure about the size of my Mom and Dad's houses put together. Every inch of it, from the well-manicured front yard, to the row of second-story windows, looked impeccably designed. And all of that design seemed to be directing my attention to the centerpiece: dark wooden double-doors that looked to be twice my height, which dominated the center of the house.

Was... was TJ rich? Like, I'm aware that as the only child of four psychiatrists, my family would definitely be considered wealthy by any reasonable metric, but... 

"Oh, right, you've never been to my house before," I felt an arm go around my shoulder and start directing me across the lawn. It almost felt wrong to be walking across the perfectly green grass, but TJ continued to direct me to across the yard, around the side of the house and through a gate until finally leading me to a much more normally sized door around the back of the house.

"Your house looks... incredible."

"It's just a house," TJ shrugged, pressing a series of numbers into a keypad and unlocking the door, letting us inside. The entryway appeared to lead into the kitchen, but the whole space in front of me was open, and bright, and very very very clean.

"Um, shoes off or on?" I asked, scoping out as much as I could see from just outside the door.

"Huh?" TJ turned around to look at me with a confused look on his face as I hovered in the doorway, hesitant to take my first step inside. I didn't want to start my night by breaking a house rule! Everything looked so perfect, I couldn't let myself be the thing that ruined it. "Oh, um, whatever you want, I guess. Make yourself at home, Underdog."

"Alright, um... I'm just gonna take my shoes off, then..."

"Okay..." I could practically hear TJ rolling his eyes behind me as I sat down in the doorway and unlaced my shoes, but I was done soon enough and standing next to him with a smile on my face and my sneakers in my hand.

"Lead the way!"

"Let's just throw your stuff in my room, yeah? Then we can get these cookies started!" Switching shoulders with my bag once again, TJ led the way through the kitchen and living room, down a hallway and into the entryway where I was once again intimidated by the size of the front doors, up the stairs and all the way down to the end of that hallway, finally reaching a door adorned with a large, dark-blue 'T' and a bright yellow post-it note. On closer inspection, the post-it had been taped to the door and was inscribed with only a single letter: 'J.'

"Alright, you can put your stuff in here," TJ’s voice seemed to catch in his throat a bit as he pushed open the door. "I've gotta go to the bathroom. Be back in a sec." Before I could respond, he had shoved my bag into my arms and was jogging down the hallway with his head down.

Mentally preparing myself, I turned to get my first look at TJ’s room. Would it be as impressive as the rest of the house? As I peered through the doorway, two facts immediately became obvious.

One: it was huge. It was easily twice the size of my room, with its own seating area boasting a couch and a giant TV taking up about a third of the space. And, two: it was almost comically messy. An impressive pile of clothes was spilling out of what was probably his closet, but there were also a few pieces of various outfits that I recognized from that week littered around the room. There were some trophies on one shelf, but also just a clutter of trophies sitting on the floor beneath it, next to what appeared to be a different broken shelf. The couch was covered in video game cases and papers and the controllers of at least two gaming systems. In fact, the only part of the room that looked clean, almost untouched, was TJ's desk.

This. This is how you know being gay isn't a choice. Teenage boys are disgusting, and no one in their right mind would choose the bedroom that smells faintly of sweat and too much body spray if girls were actually an option for us. I couldnt keep my nose from wrinkling as I took in the sight before me. And to think, my parents complained about my room being too messy!

This is really the guy I like, huh?

Careful not to trip over the backpack carelessly spilling books right next to the door, I made my way to the other side of the room where TJ's un-made king-sized bed sat. On the wall next to it was a big whiteboard weekly planner, mostly blank except for basketball practices and math tutoring, and a mostly erased but still legible 'SLEEPOVER' across the Saturday and Sunday spaces.

I placed my bag on the floor next to the still-deflated air mattress at the foot of TJ's bed and took another look around the room. One of the walls was decorated with a few large posters of men I didn't recognize who were all holding basketballs. There was a miniature basketball hoop with no net hanging off the closet door, and there were at least two loose basketballs rolled into opposite corners of his room.

Yeah, this was the room of a basketball-loving, straight teenage boy if I'd ever seen one.

"Sorry for the mess," TJ's voice announced his return as he walked through the door. "I tried to clean up some this morning, but..." he scratched the back of his neck as he glanced over at the clothes falling out of his closet door.

"It's okay. You should see my room if my Dad hasn't made me clean it in a few weeks," that was a lie, my room could never compare to TJ's. My parents would kill me.

"Yeah, sure," TJ smirked as he walked over to stand next to me, "the guy whose locker is color-coordinated lets his room get as bad as this."

"Well, y'know... sometimes..."

"It's okay, Underdog, you can say it's messy. At this point, messy is sorta my signature. Most people can't pull it off like I can." I rolled my eyes at TJ as he grinned at me.

"Except for your hair, of course," I returned TJ's grin. "The rest of you might be a hot mess but your hair is always perfect." Taking a risk, I reached my hand up to touch his hair. Just as my fingertips were about to brush against that highly-gelled 'do, TJ's hand shot up and grabbed my wrist, stopping me mere millimeters from my goal.

"Nice try, Underdog. But no one touches the hair." TJ's voice was light and joking, but he was still tightly gripping my wrist as he forced my hand down and away from his head.

"Awww, come on! Just once? I need to know what it feels like before you can be an official member of the Good Hair Crew!" I whined, a big smile still plastered on my face.

"Who says I want to be a member?" TJ laughed, dropping my wrist and beginning to walk towards the door of his room.

"You know you do!"

"I don't know, Underdog. I'm a pretty hot commodity, there's lots of people that want me. What exactly are the membership privileges if I join your group? I need to weigh the pros and cons.”

"Well, there's the group chat, which gives you access to all the best memes and cat pictures the internet can provide," I jogged to catch up with him, almost tripping over a pair of flip-flops as I crossed his room. "And you get invited to all our crazy adventures instead of just hearing them from me secone hand. But best of all, you get to spend even more time with your favorite person in the whole wide world!"

"My Grandma?"

"No! Me! You get to—"

"I'm just kidding, Underdog,” TJ half turned to look back at me, spinning back around as soon as our eyes met. “Of course, it's you." Looking down at the floor, TJ increased his walking speed as he shot down the hallway ahead of me. I faltered for a second as his words registered in my brain, and felt a smile tug at my lips.

I was his favorite person?

No. Nah. That's false. I was up there, I'm sure, but favorite? In my dreams. He was just going along with the joke.

I stood outside TJ's room, watching him speed-walk away from me with a lazy smile on my face until I remembered that this was his house, and not only did I have no idea where anything was, it might actually be a big enough house for me to get lost in.

"Wait! Wait, TJ! I don't know where I'm going!"

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"First, we preheat the oven to 325 degrees." I read the first instruction off of the faded and stained notecard that sat on the counter, surrounded by a dozen or so ingredients. The words were written in an elegant, looping cursive that was a bit difficult to read, but nothing I couldn't handle. 

"Got it," TJ hopped over to the oven and started pressing buttons and turning dials until the oven beeped, and I heard a fan switch on.

"Alright, and then we line the baking sheets with, um... wax paper, I think this says."

"Wax paper... Wax paper... I think that's in... here," he muttered, tugging open one of the drawers on the other end of the counter. "No, not there. Um... maybe it's in the pantry?" Scratching his head, he shifted to open the door of the pantry and start examining the shelves.

"Other than that, I think we have everything we need here," I called over to him as I eyed the various bags and bottles arrayed on the counter in front of me. We had sugar, flour, spices, butter, eggs, chocolate and ginger... everything the recipe called for. 

"Yeah," he called back, returning from the pantry holding a long yellow box, "I asked my Mom to help me set everything out before I left this morning. I can't find Wax paper, but we have, uh, parchment paper. Is that the same thing? It sorta feels waxy."

"Um... sure? That sounds plausible," I accepted the box from TJ with a shrug. "Where is your Mom, by the way. Or, uh... anyone else in your family?"

"What time is it? Three?" TJ asked, pulling out his phone to check. "My Mom was taking Sally to the mall to buy a new sleeping bag before taking her to her sleepover tonight. She'll probably be back in an hour or so. I dunno where my Dad is. Probably golfing?"

"Oh... My Dad doesn't play golf. He says it's bad for the environment and also one of the ultimate symbols of greed and excess in America." I tore off pieces of parchment paper to fit the two baking trays.

"I'm not sure what that means, but it sounds like exactly the kind of thing my Dad would like," TJ shrugged, tearing open the bag of chocolate chips and snacking on a few.

"Hey, give me those!” I reached for the chocolate only to have TJ snatch the bag away with a chuckle. “Yeah, I don't fully know what he means either. I think he was, like, a hippy in college or something. Every once in a while he says something totally weird, and it's usually about politics or the environment."

"Sounds fun," TJ said around a second mouthful of chocolate chips. Lunging, I snatched the bag from his grasp before he could eat the whole thing, returning to my place at the counter with a triumphant smile.

"We need these for the cookies!"

"I need them for snacking! I just played basketball, Underdog, I'm starving!" TJ stuck his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout, leaning into me as he reached pathetically for the bag of chocolate morsels I held out of his reach.

I felt my throat close up a little as his arm draped over mine and his chest pressed into my side.

"We're inside your kitchen! Grab some chips or something that isn't part of the recipe!" Despite how much I wanted to smile at the adorable show TJ was putting on as he tried to grab for the chocolate, I forced my face to look at least a little serious.

"Nah, my Mom's a health nut. The closest thing to chips we have is... kale chips, probably." He scrunched up his nose and stuck his tongue out, making a disgusted sound before reaching for the bag again.

"Well, it's your lucky day, because I never travel without snacks," I said with a smile as I yanked the chocolate chips out of his grasp yet again, "I brought chips, and pretzels, and candy. The candy is for the movies, but you can go grab the chips or pretzels if you want."

"Seriously? You weren't kidding about that?" TJ hopped away from the counter and grabbed me by both shoulders, a slightly crazed but extremely happy look in his eyes. "Hell yeah! You're the best, Underdog!" Before I could even respond, TJ was disappearing around a corner on his way back up to his room, and then a few minutes later was sprinting full speed back to me with a party-sized bag of chips in his hand. I couldn’t help my smile as he fell against the counter beside me.

"Now can I trust you not to eat the ingredients?" I asked, carefully measuring out the last of the spices into the bowl I'd already filled with the appropriate amount of flour.

"Nope," TJ smirked, noisily yanking open the chip bag and grabbing a big handful. The boy was acting like a man dying of hunger who’d just been offered a free buffet. I had a feeling the bag of chips, my favorite, wouldn’t last long in his hands.

"Ugh, you're the worst."

"Nah," he said, offering me the bag after noisily swallowing a mouthful, "pretty sure I'm your favorite too."

If TJ's goal was to fluster me so much that I forgot everything that I knew about baking, he pretty much succeeded. I grabbed the notecard and held it in front of my face, hoping it would cover up the super obvious blush that now burned on my cheeks. "The, um, the next step is to, uh, cream the butter and ginger and su—sugar," I coughed, hoping to cover up the obviously cracking of my voice. "Which, I'm not sure what that means, because there's not any cream in the list of ingredients, and, well, I know butter comes from cream but I don't think you can turn butter, y'know, back into cream, so I'm not really sure what it's asking us to, um, to do here. Do you know? Because I don't know. And I don't want to screw up your grandma's recipe—I mean your great-grandma's recipe! But I really don't know that much about baking, and—"

"Underdog!" Startled, I dropped the notecard to the counter. TJ was looking at me with an amused smirk as he held up his phone. "I looked it up while you were rambling. It just means mix it all together until it's light and fluffy."

"Oh..."

"Here,” TJ reached behind me to grab some of the ingredients and empty them into the bowl, effectively pinning me against the counter with his arm. “Now we mix it?”

“Yes? I, um, I think thats everything.” TJ grabbed the recipe card with his other hand, shifting as he read it so that his chest pressed against my shoulder, his arm still reaching across my back to hold onto the counter. With my crush settling into being that close, there was no way my blush was disappearing any time soon, and I was thankful to be facing away from him.

“Well,” TJ dropped the recipe and looked over my shoulder at the bowl, “get mixin’, Underdog!”

“Wha—me? You’re the one with, like, muscles,” I knew TJ was grinning as I said that, he was a sucker for compliments. “Don’t you have an electric mixer or something? I’ve never done it by hand.”

“Somewhere, but I’m pretty sure my great-grandma didn’t have a mixer when she made this, and if a little old lady could handle it, I think you’ll be okay.

At this point, TJ hands were now resting on the counter on either side of me, trapping me in place as he hovered over my shoulder. I grabbed a wooden spoon and started mixing, trying to distract myself from the way my body was reacting. I could feel my heart going crazy in my chest, it was so loud I was sure TJ could hear it over the scraping of the sugar and softened butter in the bowl. He was so close, it was nearly impossible to focus on anything I was doing.

“What’s next?” TJ asked softly, resting his chin on my shoulder to see the recipe down on the counter, which is around the time my mind went blank.

Focusing on making the cookies was the only option available to me if I didn’t want to literally combust, so that’s what I did. For the next fifteen minutes the only thing I let myself think about were those cookies. Because I knew that if I let myself think about TJ grabbing my shoulder excitedly, or holding out a spoon for me to try the completed dough off of... I would die.

I would just die.

Luckily, TJ seemed to be pretty good at distracting himself, so I don’t think he noticed.

“Sweet, these look awesome, Underdog,” TJ grinned, scraping the last of the cookie dough onto a spoon as I put the portioned cookies into the oven. “How long do they have to bake?”

“Ten-to-twelve minutes,” I read off the card, refusing to look TJ in the eye lest he see how flustered I still was.

“Okay, um... wanna watch some TV while they bake?” He nodded his head at the large television in the living room across from the kitchen.

"Yeah, but, um... I need to, uh, go to the bathroom..." I coughed, mentally begging my voice to get back under control.

"Bathroom's down there," TJ pointed behind him to the exit from the living room that I hadn't been down yet. "Third door on the left. Even you can't get lost."

"Okay, thanks!" Before my awkwardness could become even more apparent, I hurried in the direction TJ had pointed.

I didn't really need to go to the bathroom. I just needed a breather somewhere TJ couldn't see me. Or touch me. At least until my stupid face stopped blushing and my stupid heart stopped acting like I was about to die. The bathroom was gorgeous, of course. Just like the rest of the house—except for TJ's room—it felt almost too perfect to use, but splashing some water on my face sounded too appealing to avoid. After giving myself a good minute to calm down and get my various bodily issues under control, I flushed the toilet to make my trip sound legitimate, and started to make my way back to my obnoxiously touchy crush.

On the way back to the living room, I passed a wall that I hadn't paid attention to in my rush to get to the bathroom. Between the entrance to the main room, and what appeared to be an office, there was an entire wall of family photos, each focused one or two blonde-haired individuals in various locations.

The biggest of all the pictures appeared to be a full family photo. The woman and the man, clearly TJ's parents, were in the center of the portrait, looking proud and happy as their three kids stood in front of them. In the middle stood TJ, though he was probably only ten or eleven at the time. His hair was a little bit longer and lacked its usual gel, and he was shorter with a little bit of baby fat still on his cheeks, but even at ten, there was an... aloofness with how he regarded the camera that could only belong to TJ. On his left was a girl with the same dirty-blonde hair, clearly a year or two younger than TJ but almost as tall; she was the only one of the family who was leaning towards the camera, looking at it through a pair of thick-rimmed glasses on top of an exaggerated smile. On the other side from her must have been TJ's older brother, a young man with some unshaved stubble and tightly shaved dark-blond hair. He towered above everyone in the picture except TJ's Dad—who had him beat by just an inch or two—and his body looked like it was thick with muscle under his dress shirt. But despite the fact that he looked as if he could snap me in half, his face looked remarkably friendly. Just to the right of the family portrait, I saw another picture of him in a uniform, holding a baseball bat in one hand and a large trophy in the other with an impressive smile on his face.

"Was worried you actually managed to get lost," I jumped a little as I heard TJ's voice suddenly beside me, but couldnt tear my eyes away from the wall.

"Is this you?" I asked, pointing at a picture of TJ's mom lifting a young boy up over her head while standing next to a large silver plate with a tennis racquet leaning against it.

"No, that's Brian," TJ explained, stepping up to stand beside me. "My Mom was a pro tennis player a while ago. That was her last big tournament... I was born almost a year later, right after she retired."

"Woah... why didn't you ever mention that your Mom was a professional athlete? That's so cool, TJ!"

"I guess it never came up?" TJ shrugged. "I dunno. People with an average knowledge of sports don't recognize the name Nina Kippen, Underdog, I knew there was no chance with you."

"That's true... but it's still so cool! So, wait, if that's your brother... I never realized when you said 'older' brother that you meant, like..." I motioned with my hands to try to convey a large time gap.

"Yeah, Brian just graduated from college last year. He was planning on moving closer to home and playing minor league ball this year, but he ended up going to Alaska with his girlfriend instead to help teach at an underprivileged school. Next time he comes home, I really hope you get to meet him, Underdog. He's the coolest guy ever when he's not being, y'know, an annoying big brother."

"I'm an only child, but I think I understand what that means." I glanced over at TJ and was happy to see him smiling as his eyes traveled from picture to picture. It set a warm, calming fire in my heart, seeing him with that look on his face. Most of the family pictures at my house just made me want to cringe, but he looked... happy to be talking about these with me.

"What about this one?" I asked, bending down to look at an image of TJ's sister wearing a big gold medal around her neck. "Don't tell me you sister is a freaking Olympian or something."

"No, not the Olympics," TJ chuckled, his voice filled with pride. "Sally does triathlons. In fact, she's sleeping over with girls from her training team tonight. That photo was when she won Regionals for her age group last year."

"So you play basketball, your brother plays baseball, your mom was a pro tennis player, and your sister is a triathlete... man, I feel out of place just standing here. What, is your dad a football player or something?" I looked up at the family portrait again. TJ's Dad, while tall, didn't look particularly athletic; in fact, he looked more skinny than fit.

"Nah, my Dad's never played a sport competitively in his life, as far as I know,” TJ shrugged. “He's this big, y'know... computer guy. He started a software company the year before I was born and sold it around the time this picture was taken," TJ pointed at the family photo. I noticed that his voice was less... affectionate than it had been when he was talking about the rest of his family. "He's trying to start another company now, I think. I dunno I haven't really talked to him about it in a while."

"Wow, TJ, your family is... incredible." 

"Yeah... they really are, aren't they?" TJ's voice was quiet. Distant, like his mind was somewhere else as his eyes moved from picture to picture. "Too bad you ended up with the—"

TJ's thought was cut short as the sound of the back door slamming shut echoed over to us. A woman's voice called out, pushing powerfully into the house. "TJ, honey, I'm home!"

"Well," TJ turned to me with a small smile as we heard the woman start muttering about the mess in the kitchen, "ready to meet my Mom?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww poor TJ, being surrounded by greatness can be tough. Tell me what you think of what I did with TJ and his family! I know this isn't how most fic on here go (i.e. it's not the Kippen twins, and TJ's family isn't struggling for money) but I think it's still going to be fun to write about. I hope you find it fun to read about!
> 
> I have a feeling the next few chapters will be a lot longer because TJ/Cyrus scenes are too fun to write and this sleepover is allllll TJ/Cyrus
> 
> Crap, I accidentally posted this chapter while I was still trying to update it. Feel free to enjoy, but i will definitely be editing this further over the next few days


	13. Baking Bros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Would an Underdog by any other name be as sweet?

"TJ, honey, you know I don't like it when you leave the kitchen messy."

"Hello to you too, Mom." TJ's mom was nowhere to be seen as we entered the kitchen area. As we got closer, I heard rummaging come from behind the island and a muffled voice responded.

"The maids were just here yesterday, so I expect you to clean this up before you... oh!" Light brown eyes locked on to me as a woman who looked to be in her late forties popped up from behind the counter, a cleaning spray and towel clutched in one hand. Her hair was pulled back in a long, tight ponytail, and was what I have now decided to dub as 'Kippen Blonde.' "Hello, there, mysterious friend of my son. I don't believe we've met."

"Hi... Mrs. Kippen."

"Mom, this is Cyrus,” TJ responded, throwing an arm around my shoulder, almost knocking me off balance as we reached the island. “He's staying over tonight. Remember?"

"Oh! Cyrus! Of course! So good to finally meet you!" She jogged around the counter to us, the big smile plastered on her face showing off her huge, perfectly white teeth. I could hear an accent to her voice, subtle like she had done a lot of work towards getting rid of it, but definitely still there. I couldn't place it, but it seemed vaguely Eastern European to my ears. As she approached, she held out a manicured hand and looked expectantly between TJ and myself. "I hear I have you to thank for teaching my son that profanities are not a necessary part of every sentence."

I saw TJ roll his eyes in the edge of my vision as I reached out to accept the handshake. Her grip was really strong; I could feel some of the power she must have been able to wield on the tennis court as we shook and I introduced myself. "I guess that's me," I laughed. "You can call me 'Good Influence Goodman.' Actually, please don't call me that, Mrs. Kippen, Cyrus Goodman is much easier to say."

"Oh, polite and a sense of humor! You were right—I like this one, TJ. Well, Cyrus, you can call me Nina," TJ's mom released my hand and I nodded, even though there was no universe in which I would be calling her Nina until I knew her way better. I still struggled with what to call Andi's parents and grandparents, and that had been a thing for over a year. "I'm sorry I wasn't around when you arrived, dear," Mrs. Kippen added. "I must have gotten my dates mixed up. I could have sworn TJ said you were coming over next weekend."

"Why'd you think I asked you to put out all the baking stuff this morning?" TJ asked, accepting the cleaning supplies from his Mom as she hurried back to her bag. 

"I just got confused, is all; I completely forgot there was a sleepover waiting for me at home after spending all day getting Sally ready for her own. I swear, your sister's social life puts all of ours to shame. It's impossible to keep up." TJ's mom pulled out her phone and started fiddling with it until she sighed. "Yup, here it is, TJ's sleepover. Starts today," She pointed at her open calendar app. "I'm the crazy one. Oh, but wait, honey, it says here you have a math test on Monday? Don't you need to be studying for that?"

"Actually... I'm here to help with that too, apparently," I responded, looking to TJ to confirm. He nodded, looking at me with a small smile before turning back to his mom.

"Yeah, Mom, we're gonna study tomorrow. Don't freak."

"I'm not ‘freaking’, honey, just making sure you're not trying to get out of studying. Again. I swear," she turned to me, tucking a non-existent piece hair behind her ear, "I've never seen someone come up with so many schemes just to get out of opening a book—"

"Ugh, Mom, I’m doing it, alright? It's a normal thing for kids to hate homework, y’know! Just because Brian and Sally are freaking teacher's pets doesn't make me the weird one." TJ turned away from his mom to go look in the oven; while his voice sounded light and almost joking, I could see in his eyes that frustration was building. It was a look I saw on his face often whenever I tried to get him and Buffy to spend more than twenty minutes with each other.

"Oh, yes," TJ's mom laughed to herself, "I forgot how normal it is for kids to set their textbooks on fire to try to—"

"I said that was an accident, Mom!" I couldn't see TJ's face anymore as he peered into the oven's window, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed the bored calm of his voice.

TJ's mom smiled at me and made a show of rolling her eyes.

Oh my, this was... awkward.

"So," I interjected before this could escalate to a full-on argument and stick me in the most awkward possible situation, "we're baking one of TJ's great grandma's recipe's, Mrs. Kippen? Have you ever had this one before?" I swiped the recipe card off the counter and presented it to her, hoping this might start another topic of conversation.

"Oh, yes," she said, carefully accepting the card from my hands. "Nanna Ruth always made these chocolate ginger cookies around Christmas. I remember hating them as a child, but by the time I was your age they were some of my favorites," her voice sounded fond, and she looked like she was lost in thought.

"That's cool! Um, is that why you suggested them to TJ?" I asked, walking over to inconspicuously tug TJ away from silently glowering at the oven. Even if his mom was putting him in a bad mood, he was not allowed to just leave me to fend for myself. He looked up at me with a quiet sigh when I grabbed his arm, but still followed me when I walked back toward his mom. "My, uh, my Nanna Sarah always makes these little cookies every Hanukkah, I think they taste like burnt licorice, but my Mom says I just haven't developed a taste for them yet."

"I'm sure in a few years, it won't feel like Hanukkah until you've had them. That's what happened to me with these cookies and Christmas," TJ's mom flashed me another brilliant, thousand-watt smile. "Just the smell is making me think of this holidays, and I haven't eaten one in years. Are they almost done?"

"Looks like it," TJ said, leaning on the counter beside me. "Another minute, probably? I dunno, I'm no baker."

"Oh, I'll check," I dropped TJ's elbow and hopped over to look into the oven. "I've baked many a cookie with my Stepmom, and I've never let a batch burn. This is pretty much my specialty. Hmmm... Yeah, I'd say just over a minute left before these bad boys are perfect." In the heat of the oven, the cookies had spread out and were puffed up in the middle, with bits of gooey chocolate peaking through. I felt my stomach start to grumble. They looked delicious.

"Well, you boys are in for a treat! What else have you got planned for tonight?"

"Eating pizza, horror movie marathon, video games... normal stuff," TJ answered as he dug through one of the drawers.

"I also brought board games," I added.

"Ooh, board games. You're lucky your father's not around tonight, dear. You know he'd end up forcing you two to play Scrabble with him all night."

"Wait, where's Dad?" TJ turned around, holding a pair of silver oven mitts.

"Didn't you hear him this morning?" TJ shook his head and his mom sighed. "Of course not. Your father flew out to California, dear. He's meeting with some of his investors this week in Los Angeles."

"But, will he be back for—" TJ was interrupted by his phone timer going off. With a huff, he fished it out of his pocket and stabbed at it a few times until the alarm stopped playing.

"What was that, dear?"

"Nevermind," TJ mumbled as he spun around and yanked open the oven door, just loud enough for me to hear him from a few feet away. “Not like I had a game or anything.”

I knew TJ had a big game that Thursday. Not that I knew what made it a big game, but TJ had made it very clear over texts the previous night that the full force of my supportive posters would be required. And if he was going to ask for my cheering instead of just put up with it, I knew it must be something really important to him. Had he not told his parents?

The smell of chocolate and ginger and spice filled the room even stronger than before, as TJ pulled out the two trays of cookies. The overwhelming scent filled my head, firing off every positive scent receptor I had and interfering with my attempt to read TJ's body language. It just smelled too amazing to think about anything else. I hadn't really known what to expect, even after risking salmonella to try some of the raw dough, but now all I could think about were how delicious these cookies were going to taste.

"Oh, those smell so good!" TJ's mom cried from behind me, I turned to see that she had shouldered her bag and was already beginning to walk away from the kitchen in the direction of the photo-filled hallway. "I have to get away before I eat them all up. Save me one for later, though! And definitely don’t eat all of those tonight, TJ. I understand sleepovers are a time for junk food," I saw her eye the half-empty bag of chips still on the counter, "but do be reasonable. I don’t want to hear that you’re too sick to study.”

"Yes, Mom..." TJ carefully set the trays of cookies down on the stove, revealing twenty-four perfect, dark-brown cookies circles of joy. 

"Wonderful to finally meet you, Cyrus. Let me know if you need anything, or if you boys want me to order you a pizza. Better yet, just do it yourself and I'll give you the money," she called over her shoulder before turning down the hallway. 

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kippen," I called after her as she made her speedy retreat.

"And clean up that kitchen!" her voice carried back to us as she disappeared from view.

That was... interesting. I had definitely been prepared for more of a, well, an interview, to be honest. I'd been mentally preparing for it all day. If it had been my Mom, she'd be needling us for information on our plans for at least another ten minutes. Then she’d ask about what Andi and Buffy were doing, probably ask why they weren’t around lately. And then she'd suggest what movies we could watch—obviously not horror movies, she would probably suggest something from Pixar. She really loves Pixar movies. The whole process would definitely take at least half an hour before she let us out of her sights. Finally, she would immediately take at least three cookies for her own while claiming it was her 'Mom tax.' It was all very standard.

That felt more like an introduction made in passing than anything else. Like, she was pleasant, but clearly she had somewhere else she would rather be.

"Well," TJ's voice broke the silence, snapping me out of my thoughts as he juggled a clearly still-hot cookie from hand to hand while walking towards me, "that was my Mom..."

"She thinks I'm polite and funny, so that's good. I was worried she'd hate me. Then again, I always worry about that when I know I'm meeting someone new. Like, the first time I met Buffy's mom, I was sure she was going to kick me out of the house."

"Like anyone could hate you, Underdog. Here," he offered me the cookie after blowing on it for a few seconds, "cookies are always the best right out of the oven. You can have the first one. Y'know, since you're the one who did all the work."

"What is with your obsession with eating things when they're as hot as possible? How have you not burned your tongue off, yet?" I tentatively reached out to accept the sweet from TJ, relaxing a bit when I realized it had cooled off enough to handle safely. "And I've seen you eat pizza so hot, the cheese was still bubbling, so don't act like I'm wrong."

I took a careful nibble of the cookie as TJ shrugged and grabbed one of his own, popping the whole thing in his mouth like it was nothing. "I dunno, maybe I'm just that tough," he mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate and ginger. "Besides, it just tastes better this way."

I don't know about better, but as the warm chocolate and ginger and spices melted on my tongue, hitting me with flavors I didn't know I could expect from a cookie, I was forced to concede that it wasn't a horrible idea to eat the cookies hot. Still, I blew on mine enough to let it mostly cool down before finishing it off. As the sweetness of the chocolate combined with and tamed the spice of the ginger in my mouth, I couldn't help but smile as I watched TJ pop a second steaming-hot cookie into his mouth. 

"Wha?" TJ mumbled, a few crumbs dropping onto his shirt.

"You're ridiculous, sometimes," I grinned, digging my phone out of my pocket. "C'mon, I wanna put this on my story."

I grabbed another cookie, blowing on it until it was cool enough to hold up to my mouth and pretend I was taking a bite. TJ did the same, and I held my phone up to try and get both of us and the half-empty tray of cooling cookies in the same shot.

"What should I caption it? I'm always bad at—okay, seriously TJ, maybe you should save some room for pizza?" The blond looked up at me, an adorable deer-in-the-headlights look on his face as he held yet another cookie halfway to his lips.

"I always have room for pizza, Mom." He rolled his eyes as he extended his sarcastic tone on the 'mom' for much longer than necessary. But he put down the cookie and came over to hover over my shoulder, anyway. "Let me see! I need to make sure I don't look ridiculous."

"Just give me a caption!" My fingers hovered over my keyboard, searching for the right words to type. "You look exactly as ridiculous as you always do," which is to say, unfairly attractive and not ridiculous at all. In the photo, TJ was grinning at the camera, a mischevious look in his eye as he stood behind me. There were a couple of crumbs from the first cookies stuck to the corner of his mouth while he held another one to his lips, and the whole thing was just... too attractive. I glanced over my shoulder as the other boy inspected the photo, taking in the features of his intense stare. It wasn't fair that he could look like that—practically Instagram-model levels of pretty—while I looked like... an awkward teenage boy with a side helping of extra bushy eyebrows. My eyes locked on to the cookie crumbs that still sat at the corner of his mouth. His lips looked so soft...

If we kissed, would he taste like ginger and chocolate?

"Baking Bros."

"Huh?" my brain, glitching slightly as it tried to hold onto the fantasy of TJ's lips on mine, struggled to figure out what my crush was saying.

"Caption it 'Baking Bros.' That's what we are—practically Food Network in here."

"What? No. I don't think anyone has ever looked at me and thought 'Ah yes, here is a fine specimen of Bro,'" I said, shaking my head.

"Fine, come up with your own thing," TJ shrugged. "I'll use 'Baking Bros.' I need to take my own pic anyway, I look like crap compared to you in that one."

"Huh? What, no you don't!"

"I look like I need to take a shower. C'mon Underdog, give me one with a crazy face so no one notices how gross I look." I had no idea what he was talking about. Sure he still looked like he just came off the basketball court, but I loved when he was sweaty and a bit disheveled. Still, I followed TJ's lead, leaning down to get my head next to the cookie tray across from him and putting on an over-exaggerated look of excitement.

"There, happy now?" I asked as TJ typed his caption and sent it off for all his friends to see before I got a chance to check it.

"Yup, thanks bro," TJ flashed me a smirk as he put his phone away. "Now let's clean this place up before my Mom freaks out again. Then it's movie time!"

"Yeah, one sec," I muttered, feeling a sudden wave of disappointment. Despite TJ's eager tone, I felt my excitement falter as I replayed his words in my head. 

Bro. 

I knew TJ was joking, but the word stung anyway. Of course he thought of me as a bro. Bro is the highest level of friendship you could expect out of a teenage boy. A straight teenage boy who was more open with me than most, but it only meant I was his best 'bro.' Anything else was as much a fantasy as my daydream about what it would taste like if we kissed.

I mean, in any other situation, it would be nice. It would be a great thing to hear a good friend call you a 'bro' in literally any other situation, or so I assume. The only other person who had ever called me 'bro,' was Jonah, and I'm pretty sure that was more of a default space-filler than, like, a term of endearment or anything. But this was my fear. This was what I dreaded once I realized that I was gay and other boys were, for the most part, not. Time after time, I was going to find a boy, develop feelings for him, and then one day find out I could never be more than a friend. A good friend. A bro.

And yeah, it was just a stupid word, and I was probably overreacting, but I couldn't help myself. It had been a week, now, since I had apparently lost all control of my emotions, and my hormones, and my stupid teenage brain. I was either obsessing over TJ, or freaking out over Andi, and trying to keep Buffy calm, and it was a lot of work to keep a measured, objective view of everything... so it hurt.

More than it should have. Way more.

I needed to calm down.

I tuned out TJ as I captioned my photo 'Sleepover 2018!' and posted it to my story for Buffy and maybe Andi to see. Then I forced myself to smile—I didn't want TJ asking why I was suddenly looked sad—and looked at my list of friends' stories to distract myself while I tried to get my heart to slow down.

Buffy's story showing her and Walker at some old-looking arcade. Then Jonah's story of him practicing a new guitar song. Gus had one that was just a full minute of him playing Fortnite. Andi's story was empty, like it had been all week.

Then, more out of habit than anything else, I pulled up TJ's.

Him walking to the park. Basketball. Basketball. Basketball...

Then us, over-excited faces framing a half-empty tray of cookies. Not quite capturing the magic of the smell that still pervaded the kitchen, but we did both look good. The caption read: 'Me with my Underdog: Baking Bros!"

And I felt that spark of hope that had been brutally doused by the word 'bro' flicker back to life in my chest.

Because, maybe it had been a slip of his fingers, but TJ has just called me his Underdog on a public picture.

His.

I wasn't his bro, I was his Underdog. I shoved my phone in my pocket and felt a real smile grow on my face as I set in to help TJ clean. That little flame of hope grew bigger and stronger and brighter. Warming me every time I heard TJ call me that stupid, adorable nickname. A few times as we cleaned, once more as we ordered the pizza. And again as we settled into his room to get ready for the movie.

Underdog was way better than Bro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this ended up being a lot longer than expected. This scene was only supposed to be the first half of this chapter, but it just kept growing. That always seems to happen when I write scenes between TJ and Cyrus... So anyway, I have two questions that I need y'alls' opinions on:
> 
> 1) This story will likely either be 4-5 chapters longer, or ~10 chapters longer. Which would you prefer?
> 
> 2) I'm considering writing a sequel from TJ's point of view, depending on how popular this story gets. Would you want that?
> 
> Comment and tell me what you think!


	14. Need a Distraction?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no putting it off anymore... it's movie time.

"So you never answered my question from before."

TJ's room was awash with golden light, as the Winter sun shone through the windows lining the back wall. It was still another hour at least until sunset, but the light shining on TJ as he examined his collection of old horror DVD's made everything beautiful. It even did some work towards making the jock's room seem more quirky-messy than disgusting-messy.

"What question?" I was supposed to be pouring our sodas and plating up our pizza, but I may have been taking the rare opportunity to watch TJ with his hair unstyled—after complaining he looked gross, he'd jumped in the shower while we waited for the pizza, and his still-damp hair was lying messily across his forehead. Combined with the golden light, the view was a little bit... distracting.

"Monsters or ax-murderers. Do you want the scary part of the movie to be, y'know, something supernatural or like a guy with a mask?" TJ grabbed one of the cases from his apparently extensive collection and looked at it before muttering something about 'too much blood' to himself and putting it back on the shelf.

"I'm not sure it'll make any difference, to be honest. I'm going to end up curled up in a ball in the corner either way. So, since you're going to have to be the one to deal with that, I'll let you choose." To be honest, I still didn't want either option. But TJ seemed so set on this. And honestly, how are you supposed to say 'no' to a crush who wants to share something he's passionate about with you?

"Well it's totally different," TJ shook his head, turning away from his collection, "But I think we'll go with a monster. It'll be easier to convince you that the monster isn't real than that there isn't a serial killer in the house. At least I hope you're aware that monsters aren't real."

"I'm aware of what's real and what's not, thank you very much. But have fun telling my amygdala that." I turned away from my crush, who was still bathed in golden light from outside, to follow through on setting up our food. The pizza—chicken, red peppers, and feta cheese; my signature order that TJ had eventually agreed to—smelled amazing as I set slices out on the paper plates, poured the soda, and got my big bag of M&M's opened and on the table. A perfect sleepover dinner. 

"I'll assume that's some brain-thing to do with fear?" TJ hopped over the back of his couch, landing on the cushion behind me and grabbing one of the Play Station controllers.

"Yup, and mine is especially strong. Even when I know, logically, that everything is fine, my scared-brain just tells my logic-brain to shut up and freak out. And my scared-brain usually wins that argument. It seems to be the louder of the two. Every time I try something and that scared-brain pops up, it just ends with me adding another thing to my 'List of Things Cyrus Can't Do.'"

"Well, we've already done, what, like five things on your list, right? Is watching a scary movie on there?" TJ's eyes were on the screen as he gave up on Netflix movies and turned over to Amazon.

"As a matter of fact, it is. Right under jumping off the high dive."

"Awesome," the blond smirked, "I love whenever I get to prove to you that that list is bullshi—I mean, bull crap." I grabbed my plate and settled into the opposite corner of the couch, a good, safe two feet of space between me and my crush. With a smile, I took the first bite of my beloved pizza while TJ flipped quickly from movie to movie, hoping silently that I didn't end up so scared that I threw everything back up at the end of the night. Because that would probably be the end of the night. There's just no coming back from fear-puking. "You're not getting rid of me until we've knocked everything off that list, Underdog," TJ added with a laugh.

"Then you're gonna be stuck with me for quite a long time," I grinned, taking another bite and washing it all down with a gulp of soda. "I'm pretty sure that list could keep us busy at least 'til I graduate high school."

"Good," I watched as TJ smiled, still staring at the screen as he pulled up and dismissed one movie after another. Suddenly his eyes grew wider and he looked over at me with an eager grin. "Got it! This one's perfect!"

I tore my eyes away from his face to see what torture my crush had picked out for me, and was met with an image of a woman in a bathtub, with some deformed shadow behind her. I gulped around the pit already growing in my throat. He was really planning on going through with this. "A Quiet Place?"

"Yeah, it just came out this year. It's scary, but not too scary. Doesn't have a lot of jump scares, or freaky music, or anything like that. And it's got kids in it—which, I know that doesn't mean it's not as scary, but one of them is this Deaf girl, so that's sorta cool, right? Plus, I've already seen it, so I can warn you when any of the really scary parts are about to happen."

TJ smiled at me excitedly, looking incredibly proud of his choice as he grabbed his own pizza and began devouring it. My eyes flicked back and forth from his face to the TV; the more I looked at the description under the poster, the more I could feel my adrenaline starting to pump. My brain was already fighting against it: telling me to say no, telling me to run, telling me TJ's not pretty enough to put up with this.

"... You promise you'll warn me before the scary parts?" My voice was small; I wasn't even trying to hide my fear. I wanted TJ to know how difficult this was for me. Maybe I wanted him to realize I was doing this for him.

"I promise," TJ grabbed one of the wooly blankets he'd thrown in a pile at our feet, wrapping it around his shoulder and holding the other side out to me with a soft smile. The blanket was big, but not big enough to reach me in the other corner of the couch; I'd have to move to be right next to him if I wanted to accept his fluffy offer. Of course, I could just grab one of the other blankets crumpled up at his feet. "C'mon, my house gets really cold after sunset this time of year."

"Your house gets cold? What, you don't have heated floors?" I let out a light laugh, eyeing the spot on the couch next to him. My mind was racing as TJ rolled his eyes. Should I move to sit next to him? Was that too weird? Would it draw more attention to myself if I didn't? The blanket did look incredibly warm, and I could already feel a slight chill in the air. 

"You're joking, but my parents do have heated floors in their room. My Dad's just cheap; he gets pissy if we try to put the heat on before the first snowfall, so blankets are the best source of warmth we've got. It's why I have, like, twenty of them in my closet." He shook the arm holding out the blanket, giving me an expectant look. "I always steal the best ones for myself. It pisses my Mom off, but she's the one with heated floors, so I say fair's fair."

"Well... if you insist," I said, doing my best to hide my smile by taking another bite of pizza. Accepting TJ's offer to share a blanket was one thing, but letting him see how happy I was to scoot the two feet over and let him throw the fuzzy fabric over my shoulder would probably just make things awkward.

"I do," TJ said, already finishing off his first slice with an enormous bite.

"Your dad is weird, though. If it's cold enough to wear a jacket outside, my Dad has probably already had the heat on for a week."

"Yeah, it's whatever. Weird is a pretty accurate way to describe my Dad." He shrugged and his arm brushed against mine, sending a wave of tingles straight to my brain and making me feel... fuzzy. Then I noticed his knee bouncing next to me, and I could hear the fabric of his jeans passing against mine. We were close, is what I'm trying to convey. We were so very, very close. I gripped the edge of the blanket with my free hand and pulled it tighter around my shoulders. "Anyway, you ready for this Underdog? Scary Movie numero uno!"

"As ready as I'll ever be..." I forced down the rest of my pizza, doing my best to enjoy it before my throat got too tight from nerves to let me eat. A handful of M&M's, another gulp of soda, and TJ got the movie playing with the volume at an acceptable level.

I tried to focus on the screen. Even as TJ reached over me to grab some candy and leaned into me in the process, and even though I wanted to be looking at anywhere else that wasn't planning on scaring me to death in the next hour, I tried to keep my eyes trained on the giant TV. I wanted to prove that I could handle this, so I swallowed the lump in my throat and I watched.

"See, this isn't so bad," TJ adjusted his posture in his seat, slouching down into the cushions a bit more and spreading his legs wider as he did so. Our knees were now firmly pressed against each other, and unless I wanted to draw more attention to it by turning to sit at a weird angle, there was nothing I could do. It made it extremely difficult to think about anything other than the feeling of his leg constantly bouncing against mine.

I shook my head and tried to re-focus on the TV screen. The movie was setting the stage with an abandoned town. Newspaper clippings, a path made of sand, and the almost complete silence from the actors all did an impressive job at communicating that I was watching a world where making too much sound was a bad idea. I let myself get distracted with the way the scenes were shot, the way the actors were framed and the way the family's struggles were highlighted in just those first few minutes. Hopefully, I could let my inner film geek take over for a bit to get me past the scary parts.

During the first high tension sequence in a store, I noticed TJ repeatedly glancing at me—I assume to see how I was handling the movie, to make sure I wasn't already freaking out, or worse. I forced myself to give him the biggest smile I could muster, trying to ignore my already rapid heartbeat. I wanted to reassure him that I could handle this. I wanted to reassure myself that I could handle it. And then things on screen seemed to diffuse, and my heart calmed down just a tad, and I thought to myself, 'if this is what I have to expect, I can handle this. It would be stressful, but not too bad...'

I settled in the couch next to my crush.

I could do this. Maybe.

A few seconds later, I felt TJ's hand squeezing my forearm lightly, and he shifted slightly so that his mouth was just a few inches away from my ear. "Something scary is about to happen," his voice was a soft whisper laced with a smile. I immediately felt my adrenaline spike. My eyes flicked between his face and the screen, and I couldn't decide what was scarier: the soul-piercing look those stormy eyes were giving me, or whatever was about to happen in the movie.

And then the little boy on the screen pulled out the spaceship, and TJ's hand squeezed my arm a little bit tighter, and the spaceship started making sounds, and a smile that was nervous and excited at the same time grew on TJ's face, and the boy's dad started running as fast as he could, and—

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

My amygdala was very loud, and it was screaming at me to run.

I had survived the first scare. And the second. And the third. I distracted myself with the beauty with which the peaceful scenes were shot. I distracted myself with thoughts about how none of it was real. I distracted myself with the fact that TJ's hand had never let go of my arm. But eventually, I ran out of ways to distract my fear-addled brain.

And now the monsters were attacking.

My eyes were screwed closed as tight as I could force them, and I had taken refuge in the only slightly safe haven I could find by shoving my face between the couch and TJ’s shoulder. The wooly blanket behind him pressed into my cheek with its soft fuzz, not nearly comforting enough to calm my nerves. I could feel my body shaking with every breath as the world fell apart on the TV screen and inside my head.

“Are you okay, Underdog? Are you scared? Is it too much?”

I wanted to explain that I wasn’t just scared, I was terrified. That I had done everything I could to defeat my scared-brain, but I had failed. But I could feel my blood pounding, and my heart going crazy, and I just... couldn’t come up with the words. I didn’t want to open my mouth. I knew if I opened my mouth, my only options would be to scream or say our code word. So I kept my lips pressed tightly together.

Instead, I nodded, pressing my face even deeper against the couch cushion as my hands gripped at TJ's shirt sleeve tightly.

“Do you want me to turn it off?” TJ’s voice was soft and understanding, a comfort that was immediately countered by the sound of shearing metal blasting through the speakers and driving my adrenaline even higher. The movie had been quiet for so long, and us along with it, that every sound effect now seemed especially loud.

Yes, I wanted him to turn it off.

But also, no. I was terrified of the movie, but I was just as terrified of disappointing TJ, of him realizing what a coward I really was. I couldn't use the code-word, no matter what. So I kept my lips tight.

I shook my head, even as my brain screamed at me.

“How about a distraction?” TJ asked, his voice was calm as he spoke over a monstrous wail coming from the TV, close enough that I could feel his breath against my ear.

A distraction? A distraction sounded nice. I’m not sure what could possibly distract me from my own impending death at the hands a sound-detecting monster, but if TJ had an idea, I was all for it.

I nodded my head. Immediately, I felt TJ shift away from me; my heart rate spiked even higher and a pathetic whine escaped from my lips. I couldn't help it. The thought of him not being right next to me at that second was more than I could handle, and before I knew it I had wrapped myself around his arm and was holding it against my chest with all the strength I had. I couldn't see what was going on, but his arm was warm, it was solid, it was strong, and it was TJ. He had promised to protect me and I was not going to let him just slip away.

“Woah, it’s okay, Underdog. I’m just turning down the volume. I’m not going anywhere.” Sure enough, my over-sensitive ears heard the high-tension chaos of the movie get significantly quieter, and then TJ was shifting back until he was pressed against me again. I never let go of his arm.

“Alright, Underdog, give me your hands, okay? You can keep your eyes closed if you need to, I’m right here,” I felt TJ’s free hand start to worm its way between my arms and his bicep carefully pulling himself free. Slowly, very slowly, I began to loosen my grip until TJ could bring my hands to rest on our legs. We stayed like that for a breath, until I felt him gently shift again so that he was facing me, and I felt him wrap his larger hands around mine.

“You can use the code word whenever you want? Okay? You know that, right?" I nodded, re-swearing my silent promise that I would do no such thing. "But… until then, you can distract yourself with this,” with a shaky inhale, TJ pulled my hands apart. My anxiety spiked again at the sound of his voice—if he was scared, my brain was saying, then we were doomed—and I fought against him until I felt a gentle squeeze of his hand around mine. My mind flew back to our time on the swings, the pinky promise and the subsequent squeezes. Me saying I trusted TJ had created that beautiful situation. So... what better time to prove that I trust him than when I'm scared for my life?

I stopped fighting and he slowly separated my hands. I felt very vulnerable now that I wasn't curled up, open to any potential attacking monsters, but I tried to keep myself from shaking. My left hand, TJ left resting on his leg, still wrapped up in his warm hand, which was perfect as I was experiencing a very strong need to squeeze something. I heard his breath catch slightly as he brought my right hand up, past his shoulder, past his face, before setting it lightly down on top of his soft, still-damp hair.

“You can, um… you can play with my hair,” TJ’s voice was strangled, barely above a whisper, but at that moment it completely drowned out the movie still playing on the forgotten screen. “I know you’ve wanted to, so… just this once. Okay? Don't get used to it.”

What?

Across the room, the horrific scream of an alien sound-hunting monster echoed out of TJ's expensive speaker system; it sounded like it was right there in the room with us about to devour me. And my body didn't react one bit. It took one hundred percent of my brain's processing power to comprehend the feeling of TJ's damp hair under my fingers, his warm hand wrapped around mine, and the echoes of his words bouncing between my ears. I could... I could play with his hair? Was he joking? Was this some really weird joke?

Slowly, I let one eye, then the other, crack open. TJ was staring straight at me, a bright red blush darkening his cheeks—which made sense because this was weird, right?—but his face was completely sincere. He was staring at me with those intense stormy eyes for what felt like hours... and then he blinked. And I realized that I was still sitting there, probably looking like an idiot, with a hand resting motionless on top of his head.

Well, when in Rome...

My fingers started hesitantly moving, twirling a lock of hair here, digging down to scratch lightly at the scalp there. TJ wasn't wrong, I had wanted to play with his hair for a while now, ever since he had asked me why my group chat with Andi and Buffy was called the GHC. This wasn't exactly how I expected it to happen, but that wasn't going to stop me from enjoying the feeling of the blond's surprisingly soft hair slipping through my fingers. I almost forgot where we were when I saw TJ's eyes close gently, a soft smile playing at his lips. My heart started to calm, my brain stopped yelling at me, and my hand wasn't shaking at all as it traced an invisible pattern over TJ's head.

"This is, um... this is a surprisingly good distraction," I whispered, still a bit in awe of what was happening. My crush's smile grew even bigger.

And then the most terrifying scream I'd ever heard tore across the room, breaking into my little private world and shattering the peace I had there, and the next thing I knew my face was hiding against TJ's shoulder, knees pressed against my chest, and TJ's arm was wrapped around my waist, holding me tight until the credits rolled.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"You did it!" TJ was eventually able to put a cartoon on in the background despite my utter refusal to uncurl from the ball of fear that was still half in his lap.

"Did what?" I asked, voice muffled by his shirt as I had yet to work up the courage to remove my face from his shoulder and see the look of shame and/or pity on his face.

"You made it through a whole scary movie, Underdog!"

"Did I? Or did I make it through half a scary movie and spend the other half cowering in fear exactly like I said I would?" with a groan, I pulled myself away from TJ's shoulder, only to be met with an amused look on the blond's face.

"Is the movie over?"

"Yes... after what felt like a lifetime of fear and misery, I might add."

"Someone's snarky when they're scared," TJ mused, the grin not falling from his face. "So the movie's over. And are you still in the same room?"

"Same room, same couch, too scared to move," I muttered.

"Then I think that counts as sitting through a whole movie, Underdog. Maybe you didn't watch the whole thing, but we can work up to that."

"We're not working up to anything," I could feel my face molding into a look of sheer panic at the thought of doing this again. TJ had dubbed this movie 'not too scary!' What did he think was scary!

"We'll see," he laughed, rolling off the couch and wandering over to a corner where a gym bag was sitting. "Next time, I bet you—"

"If I agree that I sat through it, can we forget about any next time?"

"No promises," TJ turned around holding up a basketball; a big, cocky, obnoxious, adorable grin on his face.

"Fine. I sat through it. There, you win, we can cross this one off the list. I sat through a scary movie, and I'm so freaking scared that I need to get out of this room and do something or I feel like I'm going to explode!"

"Yeah, I get that," TJ walked back to stand at the foot of the couch, tossing the ball from hand to hand, "You look like you still need a distraction, Underdog. After reassuring me that the monster wasn't real, my brother always went out back to shoot hoops with me whenever a movie freaked me out. It helped me calm down a lot. So, c'mon. The monsters aren't real, Underdog. Put on your jacket, let's go shoot some hoops."

"That sounds great and all—and thanks for reminding me that I have your brother to thank for your love of horror movies, I'll be sure to give him the thanks he deserves if I ever meet him—but did you forget that I've never been able to successfully get a ball through a basket? Yet another item on the list!"

"Awesome," TJ smirked, reaching down to pull me up from the couch against my will, "then we can cross two things off in one night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, happy holidays! I had originally hoped to have this story done before New Years, but now it's looking like the earliest it will be done is the end of January. I hope you're enjoying it to so far though! Let me know what you think Cyrus and TJ's New Years Resolutions should be!


	15. Do You Mind If I Rant?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shooting baskets may not be Cyrus's specialty, but do you know what is? Deep, complex conversations with the boy he has a crush on. Oh wait, no, he's no good at that either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a big one, an important one, and a long one. I put a lot of thought and love into these words, and I really hope you love them as much as I do.

"TJ... it's dark..." My hand twisted even tighter into the back of TJ's jacket as I forced my voice out shakily. TJ's mom had been watching the news in the living room as he led me through his house, which had provided a comforting source of light and reality to my anxious mind. But the cheerful newscaster voices had disappeared the second the outside door had closed behind us and we entered the word of winter darkness.

"Crap. Yeah. Hold on, Underdog. I got you." TJ hadn't seemed at all disturbed as I clung to him on our journey to his driveway. Which was good, because it would take approximately the strength of an alien sound-hunting monster to force me to let go of his hoodie. "And... let there be light." The flashlight from TJ's phone illuminated the path in front of us revealing a monsterless world. 

"You know, usually that phrase is accompanied by something a lot more impressive," I let the other boy lead the way, basketball in one hand, phone-turned-flashlight in the other as my brain yelled at me to identify escape routes and figure out what that sound in the bushes was.

"Give me a minute," TJ said, leading us to the side of his garage. "Now which one was it? No... no... damn it there's so many switches—"

"Language..."

"How are you too scared to walk around on your own, but not too scared to scold me for muttering a low-level curse word? On accident!" TJ turned away from the panel of light switches to give me an incredulous look.

"Different parts of the brain? Sorry, I'll shut up now."

"Yeah, yeah—okay, here we go," he flipped a few switches and immediately the Kippen's backyard was flooded with bright white light. I felt my heart start to finally calm down as the darkness and its danger was banished to the edge of their property, enough to slowly let the fabric of TJ's hoodie slide out of my grip. Under the artificial light of a handful of spotlights and quite a few strings of bulbs, the yard looked even more unnaturally perfect. It was like a photo shoot for one of the home decor magazines my Stepdad loved to read. A perfectly set little dining area next to the outdoor kitchen over there, an unused fire pit surrounded by empty chairs over there, and all surrounded by perfectly trimmed hedges and plants that didn't seem to be bothered by the increasingly cold weather. Around the corner of the garage was an extension of the cement driveway with a well-lit basketball hoop at the end, which TJ began walking towards.

"Why do you care so much if I swear, anyway? It seems a little judge-y if you ask me." TJ asked, bouncing the ball as he walked away from me. I followed closely after him, my brain still yelling at me to not let him get too far from my side in case of monster attacks.

"It's not just you. I do the same thing with Buffy and Andi. Jonah too. You just never notice 'cause they've never cursed as much as you."

"Please," TJ scoffed, settling into a stance before tossing the ball into the basket from about ten feet away like it was nothing, "Have you heard Buffy when she's actually about to lose a basketball game? Or anything, probably. The girl has the mouth of a sailor."

TJ retrieved the ball and tossed it gently in my direction. Maybe it was because of my fear-heightened senses or just dumb luck, but I felt a surge of pride as I caught it without tripping, or stumbling, or accidentally giving myself a bloody nose. I looked over to see the basketball captain smiling at me.

"She does not," I took a few steps closer to the basket and tried to recall how TJ and Buffy looked when they were playing. Okay, you can do this: bend the knees, grip the ball, jump, throw it with everything you've got, and...

The ball flew a good two or three feet over the backboard.

"Maybe not around you," TJ laughed, jogging to retrieve the ball once again. "But she does. I bet Andi does too. Here, this time try not closing your eyes when you do it."

"Well, then they're just being good friends when they're around me. And I didn't close my eyes." I accepted the ball TJ held out to me, fixing him with a glare.

"Yeah, you did."

"Nope."

"Then do it again, Underdog. Prove me wrong." I could hear the smirk in TJ's voice as he stepped behind me. There was nothing between me and the basket, nothing impeding my success but my own utter lack of skills. You know, that basket looked unusually high, I bet it wasn't even, er... regulation?

"Fine," I fixed my position again, once again recalling what my more athletic friends seemed to do with ease on a daily basis. Bent my knees, gripped the ball, definitely didn't close my eyes—

"Wait! Stop! For the love of the Golden State Warriors, please stop. You're never gonna get it in like that." My heart rate spiked and I froze in the middle of my legs pushing off for the jump, almost falling on my face as a result. "Before anything else happens, we've gotta fix your stance."

"Okay, fine, but next time don't yell in my ear as I'm about to jump, please, TJ. I'm still feeling jumpy from the movie." I shook my head as TJ's face flashed with guilt, but let him walk in front of me as my heart started to calm down again.

"Sorry, Underdog. But, yeah. Okay. Get back into that position, and I'll, uh... fix it."

I rolled my eyes, but settled back into my 'basketball position.' Knees bent, shoulders squared, gripping the ball...

"Wow, uh... where'd you learn this from, Underdog?" TJ asked, walking slowly around me with the hint of a smile hidden behind his hand.

"From watching you and Buffy," I replied, doing my best to stay still as he completed a circle around me.

"Oof," he winced, "please don't let anyone else hear you say that. Okay, first things first, your feet are too close together." The basketball captain stepped behind me and started using his feet to nudge mine further apart. "We're going for around... there. Good, now you'll actually have a strong base to push off from. Okay, now give me your hands..."

TJ's words faded into the background of my mind as he reached around from behind to start readjusting my hands on the ball. Whatever nuggets of wisdom he was trying to impart were missed completely as my brain forgot about the basketball, forgot about the alien sound monsters, and one-hundred percent focused on the feeling of my crush's chest pressed against my back and his arms draped over my own. We had been close before—hell, we had been touching at least three other times that day—but we'd never been this close. I felt like my body was on fire as my back molded to the chest of my crush as he pressed against me, making me mirror his movements. His chest to my back, legs lined up together, and his... 

I don't think I've ever blushed that hard in my life.

Before I could clear my head, he was letting me go, and I looked to see if he looked one bit as flustered as I felt. But his handsome face was all smiles and business as he turned back to me.

"Okay, now try again," TJ's voice was excited but steady, like it hadn't bothered him at all that he'd just been pressed against my back-side. And for the life of me, I couldn't figure out if that was a good thing or not.

"Right..." my voice was creaky, and my attempts to focus on the dark-orange ball in my hands kept being thwarted as my brain tried to fantasize about the heat still radiating against my back, but I nodded my head and tried to assess the positions TJ had coached my arms and legs into. "Here goes nothing."

I bent my knees a bit more, pushed up to a jump, pushed the ball out and... watched it ricochet off the red hoop and straight into TJ's head.

"Crap! Are you okay?"

"Hell yeah! Look at how much better you did!" TJ smiled at me, brushing off the accidental battery like it was nothing. "You hit the hoop! Now next time, follow through with your right hand and try to give the ball a little backspin. Like this." TJ grabbed the ball from the ground and went through the movements, exaggerating how his hand spun the ball and kept moving even as it left his grip. 

"You sure you don't just want me to sit on the side and watch you play?" I asked as the jock tossed me the ball again. "Might be better for your health."

"Yup. Now, try it again." So I did. The ball bounced off the backboard, flying off at an odd angle.

"So why are Andi and Buffy being good friends if they don't swear around you? Does it really bother you that much?" TJ and I settled into a semi-pattern; he shot a basket, showing me something to work on as he did so, and I tried to replicate it in my next failure. Backboard. Hoop. Backboard.

"I guess... It's just, whenever I hear someone use those words, they always sound so... angry. Even from my friends, it just... it freaks me out."

"Even if someone just drops it in the middle of a normal sentence?" I shrugged and nodded. "What about your parents? Do they never swear around you? My parents pretty much stopped avoiding it once my sister turned ten," TJ took a few steps back to sink a basket from behind a line painted on the concrete.

"My Dad's always had a very strict 'No Swearing' rule in the house. He says he grew up that way with my Bubbe; she would literally wash his mouth out with soap if he ever slipped up around her. The only time I ever heard my Mom and Dad swear was, um..." my mind drifted back to those evenings right before I had turned eight, when, over time, hushed arguments started filling in for my parents' conversations about their day. And then hushed arguments started filling in for every interaction between them. And then the arguments stopped being so hushed. "A few times, when I was a kid. Right before they divorced."

I saw TJ falter out of the corner of my eye as I said that, but I just shrugged and tossed the ball at the hoop again. This time it circled around the metal ring at least four times before flying out towards the wall of the garage.

So close.

"I'm sorry, Underdog, I didn't..."

"It's okay," I jogged to grab the ball from the grass and tossed it to him. "I mean, going through it sucked, but at least I had a bunch of psychiatrists built in to reassure me that it wasn't my fault, that it was a normal process, yadda yadda. I've been told I'm very well adjusted about it."

"I can tell," TJ allowed himself a small grin as he tossed the ball over his shoulder. I watched incredulously as it passed through the net without even touching the rim. 

"That's not even fair," I whined as TJ retrieved the ball.

"Don't hate me 'cause I got skills," the jock laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." I accepted the cursed orange sphere once again, and carefully rearranged my arms and legs into the position TJ had shown me. Breath in... breath out; As I focused entirely on the ball, I felt my heart slowing to a normal rate for the first time since TJ had hit play on that movie. Knees bent, jump, follow through...

"Hell yeah! You did it!" TJ's arms were around me before the ball had even hit the ground, lifting me up and squeezing me so hard I could barely breathe. "That's right, Underdog! I knew you had the skills! At this rate, you'll be good enough for the team in no time! And just in time, we could really use you for the Thursday's game," he joked.

"Why's your game so important this week, anyway?" I asked, carefully extricating myself from his grip. Not that I didn't enjoy the hug, but it was really difficult to talk when I was being squeezed to death by an overly aggressive puppy. "It's not, like, the championship, is it?"

"Nah, nothing like that. It's just, like, a rivalry thing. It's our annual game against Quentin Prep."

"Isn't that the school you said Reed and Lester go to?"

"Yeah, and they're on the team; that's why it's a biggie." TJ threw up another shot, this one just barely grazed the rim and shot off in the wrong direction. "It's also where my brother went, and my sister goes. It's where I was supposed to go, too."

"Why didn't you?" I decided to end my basketball career on a high note, and rejected TJ's offer of the ball. He just shrugged and tossed up another shot, sinking it into the basket and making it look effortless.

"You mean other than to get access to Jefferson's illustrious basketball program?" TJ scoffed. "They, um... they have an entrance exam to get into there. I did fine on the interview and the reading sections, but there was a math section, y'know? That... didn't go too hot."

"Did you want to go there?" I looked straight ahead as TJ turned to face me, actively working to make sure there were no traces of pity in my voice. 

"I mean, yeah I wanted to go to school with Reed and Lester back then. Plus, family tradition and all. But it's whatever. My mom tried to convince my dad to write Quentin a big 'donation,' y'know, to bribe them? He didn't, of course."

"Oh, um..."

"Nah, don't worry, it's cool. One less thing for him to hold over my head, y'know? I see Reed too much anyway," TJ shrugged. 

"Is that why you didn't tell your mom about the game?" I jogged after the ball as another of TJ's shots went wide and flew off to the side.

"Maybe."

"Were you worried they wouldn't come if you told them about it? Or were you worried that they would?" I could potentially see both situations being unpleasant, based off what I had seen of TJ's family. Which, admittedly, wasn't much.

"Oh, they were never gonna come," TJ's voice was light, like it was all no big deal. I thought back to the games I'd been at over the past season, trying to scan my memory for the faces of TJ's mom and dad. I definitely recalled his sister's face at a game earlier that season, but I couldn't remember seeing his parents.

"It looked like it bothered you that your dad was going to be out of town, though. Can I ask why, or is that... too many questions?" I tossed the ball in his direction, or at least I tried to. He ended up having to lunge for it to keep it from bouncing into the bushes behind him.

"You always ask too many questions, Underdog." There were faint traces of a grin on the other boy's face as he contemplated the ball in his hands. A silence fell between us, the only noise coming from our breathing as our breaths turned to fog and floated away from us into the cold dark sky. 

I mentally kicked myself as my anxiety started picking up. I had gone too far. Stupid psychiatrist parents, with their leading questions and constant psychoanalysis. Growing up with that as the norm, I'd never been able to figure out where the limit was for other people; I always seemed to ask one question too many. And every day it gets harder not to ask, 'And how does that make you feel?'

I was figuring out how to apologize when TJ took another shot, sinking the basket from behind the painted line with an emotionless shrug.

"Last year my dad made a really big deal about this game. It was the only one he actually came to. I think he had a bet going with Reed's dad, or something. I think it had something to do with the fact that I had been spouting some stupid, cocky bull... just saying I was gonna prove that I was better than Quentin, show 'em that it was their loss not to accept me, stuff like that. It got my dad all riled up for some reason, and he's the kinda guy who goes all out when he gets into something. Like, he used to always get in trouble for yelling at the umpires at my brother's baseball games."

"So what happened last year?" I asked, retrieving the ball and tossing it back to him, trying to shake out the nerves that had started to build during the uncomfortable silence.

"Oh, we lost. Big time. Dad was pissed." TJ sank another effortless basket from behind the painted line, his eyes staying on the backboard even as the ball bounced into the grass.

"I don't remember any big losses last year."

"It was at the end of the season. Buffy was mad at you for being friends with me and things were weird. You missed some big games, Underdog."

"Oh, I... um, sorry..." I felt a twinge of shame in the back of my head as I walked the ball over to him on the side of the court. That had been a tough time, with Buffy moving away—thankfully only to return fairly quickly—and her practically at TJ's throat, I had been at a loss for what to do. I had really hoped the other boy hadn't noticed when I'd been avoiding him.

"It's whatever, Underdog. I understand. You'll be there to cheer me on this year, right?" TJ grinned, accepting the ball from me and sinking to sit on the ground at my feet.

"Of—Of course!"

"Good. 'Cause we're gonna kick Quentin's butt this year. I've been putting our team through the fricking ringer to get them ready, and there's no way we're giving up our undefeated record. Reed and Lester won't know what hit em, and I'm so gonna enjoy shoving it in all their faces."

"Do you want to win because it's a big game, or because you want some weird sport-related revenge against Quentin and... your dad?" I asked, lowering myself to sit down next to him. The cement was cold and hard beneath us, but I was happy to be off my feet.

"A little of column A, a little of column B. But that's pretty standard for sports rivalries. Plus, the kids at Quentin deserve it. They're all stuck up pricks or they have huge egos. Driscoll would fit right in." The blond jock flashed me a devilish grin.

"TJ Kippen, you take that back!"

"What? She'd say the same thing about me." He chuckled to himself, tossing the ball a few feet into the air and catching it.

"And I'd tell her to take that back too! Look, TJ, I know you two are probably always going to poke at each other, but that's something you can do to her face, not to me, not when she's who knows where." I turned to face the boy next to me, who stopped tossing the ball and returned my gaze. I could feel the muscles in my neck tightening with an unfamiliar tension as I tried to read the expression he was directing at me. But couldn't make anything out of the look in his eyes and that just increased my frustration even more. "I'm serious, TJ. You and Buffy are two of the most important people in my life right now; I already have too many people I care about who won't speak to each other, I'm not going to add you to the list. I mean, what, even if Andi was talking to me right now, it would just be about how she upset she is at Buffy. It's all driving me crazy—it's been driving me crazy for weeks, and, honestly, I don't know how much longer I can go on pretending everything's okay. So I'm sure as hell not going to let it get even worse by letting you give Buffy a reason to hate you again. Not after how hard I worked to get you two in a better place. Take it back."

Only once silence reasserted itself around us did I realize how powerful my voice had grown. My heart was stuttering as I stared at TJ and he stared right back; I felt like I needed to catch my breath, like I'd just sprinted around the block. There was a weird look on the other boy's face, one I couldn't decipher, but if he was waiting for me to break the silence he'd have to wait a while. I tried to communicate that with my eyes as the silence stretched on for far longer than I was happy with, until before he finally dropped his stare to examine the basketball in his hands.

"I'm important to you?" The jock's voice was quiet, but had none of the nervousness or shakiness that mine would have if a friend had been staring me down like I was doing to him. Maybe I wasn't as intimidating as I hoped. I know I'm definitely not as intimidating as TJ can be.

"That wasn't exactly the point, but yes, TJ. You're important to me. You can be oblivious sometimes, but I thought at least that much was obvious."

"Really?"

"Why do you think I was so insistent on getting you on better terms with Andi and Buffy?"

"I dunno, Underdog. Maybe it was just a part of your 'Redeem TJ' project?" TJ still hadn't looked away from the basketball; he was staring at it like it might have all the answers to the universe hidden in its bumpy surface.

"I don't... I don't have a 'Redeem TJ' project. I had a 'Redeem Amber' project—which is nearing its final stages—but you... you did all the work to redeem yourself on your own, TJ. I mean, yeah, I helped you a bit with Buffy at the end, but I wouldn't have done that if you hadn't proven to me that you were more than the bully who tried to force Buffy to quit the team. I wanted Buffy and Andi to see that because, well... whatever reasons you had that caused you to change... I was proud of you. And I wanted them to know too."

Another silence fell between us. I could see the gears spinning behind TJ's eyes as he spun the ball a few times between his hands, a faint smile playing at the edge of his lips. That was all true, by the way. I know Buffy was convinced that I became friends with TJ because I wanted to 'fix' another bully, but that was pretty far from the truth. Bully-TJ terrified me, and I never would have tried to get close to him. I became friends with TJ because he put in the effort to be friends with me.

"If..." TJ's voice, back to its usual volume, broke the silence and he looked back up at me. "If I take it back and apologize, can we finally talk about what's going on between you and Andi? I know that's been weighing on you a lot, and it just..."

"Not that you're in any position to be negotiating, but... yeah. I would like that."

I nodded and TJ followed suit. With a deep sigh, he tossed the ball over his shoulder and turned to fully face me. Grinning, he settled back down on the cold ground, legs crossed, knees pressing into mine.

"I'm sorry, Cyrus. I'm sorry for insulting Buffy, and I'm sorry for any stress my personality has added to your life. I promise you, I do consider Buffy a friend, and even if she gets on my nerves sometimes, or if I get on hers—" I couldn't keep from scoffing as he said that. They would definitely continue getting on each others' nerves. "—I promise I won't let it get so bad that you get put in the middle of another difficult situation."

"Thank you," I said gently, reaching out and squeezing his forearm, I knew it was about to be my turn to talk, and I could feel the excitement and dread filling me up in equal measures.

"You're important to me too, Underdog. I'm not gonna let my big mouth screw everything up."

"Maybe you can teach me how to keep my big mouth shut, too. Then I might keep myself from saying anything to—oh, I don't know—destroy another one of my friendships." My free hand started playing with the hem of my hoodie. TJ's hoodie. Our hoodie? At the same time, the other boy hadn't made any moves to remove my other hand, and I found gripping his arm too bolstering to do it myself. His skin felt warm on the palm on my hand—especially notable against the frigid air around us—but it was comfortable, not the sun-hot pinpricks I usually felt when TJ touched me.

"As far as I'm concerned, if you're saying something, it probably needed to be said. I still can't imagine what might drive you to actually scream at someone. It's sort of a terrifying thought."

"It wasn't just one thing," I could hear my voice getting quieter, and realized I had shifted my eyes to stare at the logo on TJ's chest: a basketball team I wasn't familiar with. "It was a lot of little things. Little things that, um... that added up over time to one really really big thing..."

"And the big thing was Andi not respecting your old crush?" TJ asked. I felt my hand reflexively squeeze his arm as soon as the words left his mouth; just hearing the other boy talk about my crush was enough to get my heartbeat going.

"No," I choked out. "That was actually just one of the small things, I think."

"So what was the big thing?"

"That might, um... that might take a while to explain," my brain felt like it was on fire as my thoughts tried to organize themselves into a presentable whole, something that might make sense instead of just a spattering of random incidents and confusion. "Do you mind if I go on a sort of, uh... a rant?"

"I've never been able to stop you from doing that anyway, Underdog," with a faint smile, he placed his free hand on top mine and gave it a quick pat. "Rant away. I'm all ears."

"Okay. Okay, right. So, um..." I finally tore my eyes away from the logo on TJ's hoodie and looked into his stormy eyes. What I saw there as he looked back at me was... support. And it gave me the strength I needed. I swallowed the knot that had started to tie itself in my throat and began to power through my nerves. "I know I'm not necessarily the most extroverted person. And I don't lead the most exciting life. And it wouldn't be inaccurate to say that I live to support my friends. And... I don't know."

I let out a sigh and looked away at the flower bed behind TJ's shoulder. I had never really gotten around to verbalizing all the things that had been going through my head when I blew up at Andi, and it was more difficult than I had expected.

"It's just that for the last few years, it's seemed like no matter what was going on in my life, it always just felt like I was a... I guess like a supporting character. Like I was never more than the C-story character on some sitcom. It's been happening with all my friends for so long: Andi, yeah, but Buffy and Jonah too. And sometimes even from my parents. I mean, yeah, they're my friends and I know they love me, but sometimes it feels like... It never seems to really matter what's going on with my life. Maybe it's just because teenagers are selfish? Or maybe I'm imagining it? But it's like no one cares about me or what I'm doing unless it somehow affects them—somehow hurts or helps them, and then as soon as it stops mattering it's completely forgotten. Or the only reason it's not forgotten is, um... I don't know, it sounds so whiny, but it's if they somehow make it about themselves. Then I just get forgotten instead."

I coughed trying to clear the thickness that had developed in my throat and felt TJ squeeze my hand. When I glanced back at him, he had his mouth open slightly, and it looked as if he was about to say something before he stopped himself.

I pressed on.

"It's like Buffy asking, 'what more could have happened since I last saw you,' when I was freaking out on Monday. Or Andi ignoring my old crush. Or Jonah..."

Jonah only starting to be friends with me because I helped with the Space Otters?

Jonah freaking out when he found out I liked him?

Jonah not liking me back?

TJ watched me, calm but expectant.

"Jonah just being oblivious to everything," I filled in, shaking my head to try to erase those more painful thoughts. "Or my parents using me as a personal messenger when they weren't talking. It... It all makes me feel like—sometimes it's almost like they don't see me as a real person. Like I'm just there to support them and as soon as I have my own thing, my own agency... it freaks them out. Or they ignore it."

I took another break to breathe and recollect my thoughts, trying to organize them into some big conclusion that would make sense when TJ's voice snapped me back into the world outside my head.

"I'm... I'm really sorry. Can I... are you doing okay?"

"I... I think so? I think I used to be okay with it, even if I didn't explicitly realize it, back when everything was okay with everyone and we were all together all the time. It made me feel like I was part of a team, and yeah, maybe I was just supporting everyone, but that felt important too. But with everyone all split up, it just made it unbearably obvious that something was... off. I just, I don't really know how to say it. I... sometimes I just want to go up to all of them and just... tell them to stop. To please... stop. Please, stop treating me like some secondary level of best friend. But how do you tell someone that? I don't... like, how do I tell them that I want to feel important too? I want to be seen as a person with a full life, and problem and goals, and desires that don't disappear as soon as they don't matter to you. And is that even what I was trying to tell Andi when I blew up at her? I think it is, but... look at how that turned out. So is there some better way to say it?"

I didn't really know what I was saying anymore, I felt like I was repeating myself, bouncing from one idea to another, but there were so many things that I wanted to get out there, so many words swimming in my head, and yet...

"Just... please. Please, see me. See me as a person. Because that's what I am."

I could hear my heart pounding my ears in the silence that followed. Was that everything I wanted to say? Was that what I even wanted to say? As I tried to remember the words that had just spilled out of my mouth, they seemed so distant. They didn't sound wrong in my head, but...

"I see you."

TJ eyes were boring into me when I looked up from my lap. He had that look again, the one I couldn't interpret for the life of me, but this time it was much more intense than it had been after we'd made up at the swingset. I could feel tears welling up behind my eyes as I tried to return the stare.

I believed him. I did. TJ was the only person I knew who wanted to hear about my thoughts at any time of day. Who never tried to cut my rants short, or got frustrated when I had drama of my own instead of being ready and willing to help him.

"Thank you." My voice was barely above a whisper. I coughed, choking the tears back down. I was not about to cry.

"Whatever you want to share with me, Cyrus, I want to see it."

"Yeah?" a wet, bubbly laugh escaped my lips. "You're not gonna wait for me to tell you my big secret and then turn it around to make it about yourself, are you? That's sorta what Andi did, and the more I think about it, the more it's been driving me absolutely crazy."

"I promise," TJ's smile brought warmth to a part of my heart that I hadn't even realized had been cold. "You tell me whatever you want. I promise I won't say a thing about myself for a whole week."

"Make it five days. I don't think I could handle being the center of attention for seven," I couldn't fight off the smile tugging at my lips, even as I felt a single tear escape down my cheek. I rubbed at my wet streak it left behind, hoping TJ hadn't noticed, even though that was impossible. He was still staring at me.

"Deal." TJ wormed his fingers under my hand, prying it off his arm and then twisting it around until we were apparently in the middle of a handshake. "Now lay it on me, Underdog. Fire away."

"If you insist..." My heart jumped into my throat as the bubbly feeling in my stomach was replaced once again with a swarm of butterflies. This was it. TJ had sat through the longest, most emotional, most confusing Cyrus Goodman Rant to date, and he wanted more. "Might as well start big."

"I'm ready for it." TJ's smile grew, and the grip of his hand got even stronger. But was he really ready for it? Was I really ready for it?

There was only one way to find out.

"I'm gay, TJ."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew... this chapter was a long time coming. I've been trying to figure out how I wanted this scene to go since I started writing this story. The next few chapters are very much the same. It's not easy writing deep, in-depth conversations like this, and I really hope it came out as realistic and well-crafted as you've come to expect from my work. I love these boys, and I love a relationship built on honesty and trust, and I hope you love it too. Please tell me what you think of this chapter, it's such a big one that I'm especially curious as to your thoughts. And I would love to read your comments as I figure out how I'm going to write the next few scenes.


	16. Gone Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen. And so is TJ.

"Buh..." 

TJ stared at the general vicinity of my face, mouth hanging slack as he emitted the bewildered tone echoing between my ears. His eyes looked surprised, his mouth sounded confused, and his hands were balled into fists as he squeezed the fabric of his jacket.

He hadn't moved in almost a minute.

I think I broke him.

I think it had finally gone bad.

The fear had already started to flare up.

"Um, is that..." I could feel my anxiety starting to overwhelm my excitement in the battle over my stomach. As I sat under TJ's unintelligible stare for longer and longer my stomach began to roil and I began to regret eating cookies and pizza and candy and soda... almost as much as I was beginning to regret telling him my secret. Over the background noise of TJ's confusion, my brain was shouting at me that I had made a mistake. A big mistake. One that I needed to run from. "I can..." my voice was small, "I can call my Mom to come pick me up now, if—"

"No!" Blinking quickly, like he had just snapped out of a daydream, TJ started gesturing animatedly with his arms. "No! That's—I mean... uh, me—no. Shit—crap! Um, yeah! Wait, I—I..." The other boy's eyes were frantically jumping from one thing to another, occasionally stopping on my face before darting off again to stare at the basketball, or the flowers, or the fire pit. "I don't, um..."

"You don't have to say some big thing, TJ," I forced out, trying to cut his energetic confusion short before it made my stomach twist anymore. "Just, um... I would appreciate it if you would at least tell me if you hate me now... or not." I looked down at the cement between our crossed legs, trying to prepare myself for the worst possible outcome.

How was I even supposed to interpret this reaction? What was I supposed to do? I was completely unprepared for TJ to turn into a raving stuttering mess! This suddenly all felt so wrong. I suddenly felt uncomfortable.

I had no idea what I was going to do if the worst possible outcome came true.

"What? No! No, I don't—I couldn't hate you! It's just... I just—Gah!" with an exasperated groan, the blond fell onto his back, staring straight up into the dark night sky. His hands clutched uselessly at the air for a few more seconds before falling to the cement next to him.

For the first time since I admitted that I was gay, silence fell. Other than the sounds of our respective breathing, it was like the world was dead around us.

I was at a loss for words. I had no idea how to fill the silence. What had I been expecting, here? A 'that's cool, Underdog' would have been nice. But this all felt wrong. It felt like he was holding something back and that alone was enough to make me feel uncomfortable. There are a lot of bad things a guy might be holding back in this situation. 

I started to fish my phone out of my pocket, preparing to stand up and call my Mom. One thing, if anything, was clear. Obviously, I had made TJ uncomfortable. Even if it wasn't from some homophobia, I was making him flustered and upset, and it was time for me to go. Clearly, I had misread some things, and—

"Thank you for trusting me." TJ's voice sounded tired but... resolved. Like whatever confusion had been plaguing him the last few minutes had been solved. I envied him. I only felt more unsure and confused with every passing second, and I didn't see how that might change. With a grunt, the blond pushed himself up to rest on his elbows and locked eyes with me again. "I don't hate you, Underdog, you never have to worry about that. So... thank you."

"But are you..." Happy? Proud? Put off? Angry? Uncomfortable? "Okay?"

"I promised I wouldn't talk about myself, right?" the other boy rolled his eyes, pushing himself back up to sitting. Then a big smile grew on his face and he reached over to grab my forearm, giving it a light squeeze. I felt my heart settle for a second before it jumped back into overdrive. It felt good to see him smile, but... it still felt like he was hiding something. I wanted to trust him but... "But yeah, I promise, I'm okay. Definitely... okay. So stop freaking out—I can see your eye twitching, Underdog—and... how about you keep going."

"Keep going?" I choked out. "Keep going where? Do you want me to go somewhere? I can, um, I can give you some space if you, um, I..." My throat started to close again. I was so confused. First he seemed so flustered, then he seemed so calm; He seemed upset, then okay with it, now he wanted me to go somewhere? My brain was racing to try to connect the dots but nothing was adding up. I felt very uncomfortable sitting there on the ground.

Did my eye really twitch? Was my eye twitching? It didn't feel like it was twitching!

"Woah, Underdog, chill," TJ chuckled. "I just meant... this was all part of you explaining why you and Andi got in a fight, right? I meant keep going with that. Unless you need to take a break or something? We could go grab some of the cookies."

Oh! He just meant... 

Right.

"Oh, okay. No, I can, um, we can get cookies later. Sorry, I was just—"

"No! It's okay, I'm sure I was... confusing. Um... yeah. But don't... don't worry about me. So how did... what does, uh, that have to do with you blowing up at Andi?" Under his casual tone, I could still hear a layer of strain in TJ's voice. There was clearly something he wasn't saying, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to know what it was. I eagerly jumped at the chance of a distraction.

"Oh, um, it's—well, I mean, it's not that... I just," I could feel my tongue tripping over itself as I tried to ignore the storm brewing in my chest. Taking a deep breath, I coughed and tried to calm my thoughts.

It's okay Cyrus. He said it's okay.

He doesn't hate you.

Sure, he didn't come out to you and profess his love in response, but you really shouldn't have let Buffy convince you that was a possibility anyway, Cyrus. He still wants to be your friend—probably—take the wins where you can get them.

He said he doesn't hate you. Believe him. Believe him.

Please... believe him.

"She didn't freak when you came out to her, did she?" The jock sat up across from me, a good head taller than my slouching posture. His voice was suddenly fiery, tinged with anger.

"No! No, nothing like that," I let out a long breath, giving myself a little more time as I tried to recollect my thoughts. "Okay, um, so... So I used to have a crush on Jonah Beck.

"Oh." TJ's strong posture almost immediately fell into a slouch for just a second he quickly shook his head and cleared his throat. "That, uh... that's the crush you said you were, um... over. Right?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I uh... yeah I haven't liked him, y'know, like that for... a few months now, I guess. But that's beside the point." Man, it felt really weird to discuss an old crush with a current crush. A current crush who's acting really weird himself. My stomach twisted sharply, so I looked down to watch my fingers as they found their way to the frayed hem of my hoodie. I was still getting used to talking about my gay crushes openly, and this was... far too much. "The fact that I used to like her ex isn't what we were fighting about. She'd known that for a long time."

"So she wasn't, er... I was going to say jealous, but I think it's the opposite of that. Being over possessive?"

"Yeah, no, it wasn't that."

"So what was it? Was she, um..."

"Remember how I said that people don't really care about my life unless it relates to them, or they can control it? Well... I told Andi about my crush on Jonah back when they were still in the sort of will-they-wont-they stage. I didn't do it try to convince her to back off, or anything. I just... she was having a really tough time at my Bar Mitsvah watching Jonah flirt with other girls, and I... I wanted to let her know that I fully understood what she was going through."

"Oh, yeah. I remember seeing frisbee kid—I mean, uh... I remember seeing him with some girls at your party. He, uh... he must've been a tough guy to have a crush on," TJ let out a forced-sounding chuckle. His voice sounded so carefree, and I felt jealous that he could be handling this so apparently easily.

Maybe I should stop.

"That was sweet of you, though. To do that for Andi, I mean. How did she respond?"

"Oh yeah, I'm just so sweet. Even my coming out is about helping someone else. What a sweetheart." I scoffed, pulling at one of the loose threads hard enough for it to break off between my fingers. "No, she was fine with it, though. She pulled me into a hug."

"And then what happened?" I heard TJ shift, felt his knee brush against mine for just a second, and then he was lying on his back so that his chest was directly in front of me.

"She hugged me, said she felt a lot better, and we walked into my party like everything was suddenly about to become better... and then she never talked with me about it again. And a few weeks later she and Jonah stopped being will-they-wont-they, and started being a 'they-will'..." I took a deep breath and let it out over a few seconds, clearing my throat again, "with an endless number of problems that they wanted my help solving. And they're my best friends so I was happy to help them, but at the same time, it was like Andi never even considered that it was just as hard for me to see them together as it was for her to watch Jonah flirt with those other girls."

"She never asked you... I dunno, how you were feeling?" On the edge of my vision. I could see TJ start to play with the pull strings of his jacket, twirling them and wrapping them around his long fingers as laid there. He looked so relaxed.

Why couldn't I relax?

"Never. They even had their first kiss with me right there... though, to be fair, I don't think she was expecting that to happen. But, yeah," I shrugged, forcing my eyes up so I could see TJ's face. He was staring at the sky again. For some reason that made me feel lonely. "It was like, once I had done my duty of helping her feel better, the fact that I also liked Jonah completely stopped mattering. Then a few months later, she and Jonah broke up, and Buffy and Walker got together, and... it was like the shoe was on the other foot and she really didn't like it. She was upset that Buffy hadn't taken her feelings for Walker into consideration when they decided to start dating."

"Do you think Buffy did?"

"Huh?"

"Do you think she took Andi's feelings into consideration? I mean—I promise I'm not saying this to be mean—Buffy isn't exactly the most considerate person when she really wants something." He shifted slightly to look at me, flinching slightly when one of the pulls he was tossing in the air flew back and landed on his cheek.

"Well, Buffy doesn't exactly talk about her... y'know, feelings all that much. But from what she said, I think her and Walker started talking back when Andi was still with Jonah. And I'd like to think she thought about Andi... But I'm really trying not to take sides here. Things are already difficult enough."

"Sometimes you've gotta take sides, though. I dunno, I probably don't know enough to say anything. Sorry."

"The only side I'm on is the one that gets us all to be friends again. I miss talking to Andi. And I miss talking to Andi and Buffy at the same time."

"So the reason you're not talking to Andi is that she's a... hypocrite?" TJ rolled over on his side, head held up in his hand so that he was looking right at me. I felt my hands grow clammy.

"Um... I guess. If you want to get rid of all the, y'know, important facts. Then yeah, that was beginning of it. What, you don't think that's a good enough reason?" As TJ stared at me, that inscrutable look on his face, I felt a twinge of a doubt for the first time. I'd always felt guilty about blowing up at Andi, but at the same time, I'd always been sure I was in the right. But when he boiled it down to such simple terms like that it just seemed...

"No, I think that's perfectly valid, Underdog. I've blown up at people for much less than that. In the past. I was just trying to simplify things for myself."

"Oh, um... yeah." Despite his words, I still couldn't shake it—that tiny, minuscule, unignorable crack in my moral surety. This whole conversation was making me question... everything.

"So then what happened?"

"Wha—huh?"

"You said that was the beginning of it. And I know the blow up happened on Saturday when I gave you that hoodie, but I also know something happened on Monday that you never told me about. Were those related?" TJ's voice sounded a bit distant, even though he was still trying to play at being completely at ease. It was almost like he was focused on something else, though, and I had no idea what.

"Oh, yeah, I was... I was getting to that. She—well, to make a long story short, Andi told Jonah about my crush."

"She what!" TJ's eyes went wide and I tried to avoid meeting his piercing gaze. I shrugged. "Did Jonah know you were gay?"

"Not... as of that point. I ended up telling him this week so I could start... normalizing things." My throat felt like it was starting to close again. The whole ordeal was still so fresh in my mind, it was tough not to feel a little choked up on top of the weirdness I was feeling.

"That's messed up. That's really messed up, Cyrus. I'm—I don't think I've... how have you not just cornered her at school already and... I dunno. But that... that deserves payback."

"What? No! She's still one of my best friends, TJ. Probably... I just... I don't want to hurt her."

"You're way too nice, Underdog," the other boy muttered, rolling over to lie on his back once again. His easy posture betrayed by the dark tone in his voice. I felt a chill run down my spine.

Sometimes it's so easy to see how he used to be a bully.

"So what do you want?" he asked, voice still tinged with something... cold. I stared at him, unsure what to say as his hands returned to playing with the strings of his hoodie.

"I haven't figured that out yet," I muttered, pulling my knees up to my chest. "I've been hoping it'll just sorta... come to me when I talk to her."

"And when are you going to talk to her?"

"I haven't figured that out either. The plans I tried to get her to talk to me all failed. Buffy and Jonah think she's just not ready to face her mistakes yet but—"

"See, there's your problem." With a grunt of effort, TJ curled himself up from the ground into a seated position, before springing up to his feet. I flinched slightly at the rapid movement. I hope he didn't notice. "You can't wait until everyone's 'ready.' By the time you're ready and she's ready we're all gonna be in college. No, c'mon Underdog. You can't give her an option. Most people are gonna choose the easy way out—they're gonna run." He stepped over to me until he was close enough to offer a hand, which I hesitantly took. With a tug much stronger than I was expecting, he pulled me to my feet and then off balance. I had to catch myself against his chest to keep from tumbling over. 

"What are you saying?" I asked, confused. My body was trying to enjoy the feeling warmth coming from his chest without making it too obvious, but my brain was yelling at me to step back.

"You're too nice, Underdog." He looked down and smiled at me, patting my shoulder before turning and walking towards the house. "Sometimes you've got to force the issue."

"What does that mean? TJ? Where are you going?" I called after the other boy as he kept walking, past the back door and towards the corner of his house. Once he reached the edge of the light, he turned back to look at me, a twisted grin on his face.

"You said Andi lived close by, right?"

"Sort of? Like a fifteen-minute walk, probably. Why?" I took a few steps closer, trying to figure out why TJ wasn't heading back into the light and warmth of his house.

"Awesome. Lead the way, Underdog. We're about to force the issue."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Isn't your mom going to get worried?" TJ hadn't exactly given me much choice in the matter of going to Andi's. He hadn't even waited for my response before walking around the corner of his house and heading for the street. The look on his face made it very clear: if I didn't tell him which way to go, he was going to wander around blindly until I gave in.

So I gave in. But I wasn't happy about it.

I really didn't want to be out there. Not with how... confused I still felt about everything. I still wasn't completely sure if TJ was okay with me being gay or not.

"I already texted her that we were going for a walk. It's only seven-thirty, Underdog. On a weekend. During a sleepover." The blond nodded as we approached another intersection. Begrudgingly, I pointed in the direction of Andi's apartment. Curse my sense of direction. "She won't get worried 'til like nine. If she cares at all."

"But... I mean, how do we even know Andi's gonna be there. It's a Saturday night, she might be..."

"Out with all her friends?" TJ smirked. "Would that be with you or Buffy?"

"Well, it might be with... Amber! They've been friendly ever since this whole ordeal started," I muttered. TJ pace seemed to be especially driven—I was having trouble keeping up him as we walked from the light of one street lamp to another. It didn't help that the jackets we were wearing weren't nearly warm enough to put off the chill of the night in its entirety. The whole thing was becoming more and more unpleasant, and I was regretting my decision to come along more with every step.

I should have just let TJ wander around and gone to eat some cookies. He was the only one that wanted to be out here.

"Do you have Amber on Insta?" TJ asked, pulling his hood up over his ears and ducking his head against a blast of wind.

"Yeah, though she mostly posts make-up montages."

"Pull up her story. Is there anything about a girls' night or something?" TJ flashed a knowing look over his shoulder.

I sighed, fishing my phone out of my pocket, trying to move fast before my fingers froze off. It felt like the temperature had dropped an extra ten degrees since we'd left TJ's house.

"Okay, um... no. No girls' night." I threw a glare in the other boy's direction but he ignored me and kept walking. "Just a bunch of pictures of her cat Macaroni."

"Then we're going to Andi's," as if there had ever been a chance he would have backed down. I knew that look on his face. I knew it meant there was no stopping him. And as I caught a glimpse of it before he turned away again, my stomach flipped. I desperately wanted to find a way out of this.

I wasn't ready to add even more drama to this night.

"If Andi's home, then Bex and Bowie probably are too. It's not like we can just break into their apartment, TJ, they're going to turn us away! And then we'll have frozen our butts off for nothing!"

"I bet they don't," we approached another intersection and I directed TJ to the right. A car sped past, blowing a bunch of dead leaves all over our feet as the wind settled behind it, apparently unconcerned with two young teens walking around in the dark without adults.

"What do you mean, of course they will. They're not just going to let us barge in their distraught daughter's room." I jogged until I was in front of TJ, forcing him to stop mid-stride. This whole trip—this whole evening, really—was making me feel uncomfortable. I just wanted to go back to his house and talk. Clear the air. Or do anything else. At this point, I would even watch another scary movie. "Wouldn't it be a much better idea to just corner her after school, or something?"

"A muffin."

"Huh? TJ what does a muffin—"

"I bet a muffin that Andi's parents will let us in the door. If they do, you have to get to school early enough to get me a blueberry muffin on Monday."

"What? TJ, what does that have to do with—"

Before I knew what was happening, TJ's hand grabbed my own and pulled me into a hurried shake.

"It's a deal," he smirked, and then quickly walked around me in the direction of his goal. 

Like I wasn't even there.

"Wait, TJ, stop." I turned in place, watching TJ power walk away from me. It only took a few seconds for him to get far enough away that I couldn't see his foggy breath floating up into the air above him. For some reason the image of him walking away from me like that, head bowed against a gust of wind... I felt something growing in my stomach.

I really didn't want to do this. Why couldn't he understand that I didn't want to do this?

"TJ! I'm serious! Stop!" My voice rose above the wind, loud enough that I was sure he could hear me, but I saw no response. He was halfway down the block and showed no signs of slowing. All conflicted emotions in my brain and my chest congealed together into frustration. I couldn't think about anything else but how stupid this whole plan of his was. It wasn't going to work. If anything, it was just going to make things worse. And it was getting in the way of me talking things out with TJ and making myself comfortable with him again. "TJ! I said stop!" Even if we did get in the apartment, what then? I had no idea what to say. "This isn't fun anymore! TJ!" I didn't even know if I was ready to forgive Andi. I was still so confused, and this? This wasn't helping. This was...

I could feel the anger now. I could feel it grow as the boy I liked walked away from me, acting like he couldn't hear me, all so that he could get me to do something I didn't want to do. I could taste the sickening way it built in my throat as TJ reached the corner and turned back around, a smirk on his face that disappeared almost immediately as he caught sight of me. I could hear the thread of it in my voice as it exploded from my mouth. I was tired of being interrupted, of being ignored, of being pushed.

"TJ! Stop! Right there! Do not take another step." I could feel my vocal cords straining against the volume of my words. It made me want to cough, and shut up, and turn around, and run. A worried look flashed across TJ's face and he immediately started running in my direction. I didn't wait for him before I started yelling. "You do not get to do this! You don't get to... to tell me you see me! And act like you understand how I feel! And then thirty minutes later ignore me! Just because I want something different from you!"

My emotions were swelling and dancing within my chest, a ballet that made me feel like throwing up. I couldn't stand looking at him as he sprinted towards me. The athlete was only a few feet away from me when I spun on my heel and started walking back in the direction of his house.

"Wait, Cyrus! Underdog!" TJ fell into step behind me, I could hear his footfalls echoing my own as I tried to speed up. A hand grabbed my shoulder, but I shrugged it off. I couldn't outrun him; I knew that and it made me even more upset every time I heard him call my name. 

What was the point? What was I even trying to prove? Why was this all so stupid?

Why are teenagers so stupid?

I didn't even make it a full block before my other emotions overwhelmed my anger, and I was overcome with the urge to stop walking. To stop fighting. To just... stop

So I did.

I barely had the chance to get comfortable on the concrete before TJ carefully lowered himself on the curb beside me, a few inches between us.

"Go away," I was already embarrassed enough that he had seen me react like that. I couldn't even figure out if I didn't want him to see me, or if I didn't want to see him.

"I'm sorry, Cyrus."

"I said go away," I pressed my chin against my knees, glaring straight ahead hoping I could find something to focus on, something to center myself with. Something other than dead leaves shifting in the wind.

"Please, let me apologize. Then we can walk back home, okay? I'll even... I'll even call your mom if you want."

"What are you sorry for?" There were tears pressing against my eyes, which was stupid. It was all so stupid. I was so stupid. "Ignoring me like everyone else? Or trying to control me like everyone else?"

"For both. For both of those things. For everything! I'm stupid—I was being stupid, okay? I got caught up in my own head, and I'm... I'm really sorry Cyrus, I never wanted—"

"Then what did you want?" I turned to level my glare directly at the other boy. He looked scared, unsure of himself as he struggled to find a response.

"I... I wanted to help you..."

"By forcing me into a situation I wasn't comfortable with? By actively ignoring my opinions? By... by confusing me so much?" I rubbed at my eyes. They were stinging as I held back tears.

I was not going to cry.

"I know. I know, I'm so sorry," TJ reached out, but his hand hesitated an inch from my shoulder before falling back into his lap. "I was... I'm sorry Cyrus, I was so upset when I found out what Andi did. I was so angry. I just... I got caught up in wanting to get justice or something stupid like that."

"Glad you could find a way to make it about yourself," I spat. "Why do you even care so much anyway. It's just stupid nerd drama, isn't it?"

"That's not—no, I... I can't," he sighed, looking at the ground. 

"What?"

"I can't tell you that," the blond forced out through gritted teeth. "I will soon, but... you don't want to hear it right now."

"So, what? You're not even going to try to give me an explanation?" I turned to look back at the street then. Another car sped past, definitely faster than the speed limit.

"I... All I can do is apologize. Apologize and say this..." I heard a deep intake of breath beside me followed by a quick exhale. "Cyrus, you said I was important to you, back there in my driveway, and... and I don't know why I didn't say it then, but you're important to me too. But you're not just 'one of' the most important people. You're at the top. You're my best friend—" even in my anger, it hurt to hear him say that. Best friend wasn't enough—"And for the past week—when I wasn't busy being a horrible friend—I've been watching you be so... sad, and beat yourself up over and over because of this thing with Andi. And I hate seeing you like that. It's like a little bit of the light you usually bring to the world has been... dimmed since it happened. And I guess... I guess I thought I was trying to help you. I got so excited about catching Andi off guard and so excited about helping you, that I..."

I turned again, and TJ met my stare. His eyes were intense and sorrowful and it was all directed straight at me, but it didn't make me feel as warm as it usually did.

"I wanted to help you so bad that I screwed it up. I thought I was... I thought I was doing something no one else could make you do. But I was just..."

He clearly understood. He did actually understand, just like I'm sure Andi does. Originally, I thought maybe both of them were just clueless, but no. Both of them are smart enough to know how they should treat me.

Apparently, they both just needed a call out for it to really... click.

Teenagers are so stupid.

I was stupid to think TJ would be different.

I stood up, walking down the street without another word. I heard shuffling behind me as TJ got to his feet as quickly as he could, falling into step behind me again.

"Uh... Underdog? My house is in the other direction."

"I know."

"You know?" His voice was soft, lacking its usual confidence—I could barely hear it above the wind that whipped around my ears.

"Yes, TJ. I know. I'm not going to your house. We're going to Andi's apartment, and I'm going to try to talk to her."

"That's... great—"

"And then once I'm done with that, I'm calling my Mom and I'm going home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a fairly level chapter, with no intense emotions after the coming out was done. But then TJ's character kept leading me to have him... push things. And this is the result.
> 
> Believe me, I'm not happy either. Now I have to figure out how TJ's gonna figure out how to fix this whole mess.
> 
> Hope this wasn't too rough on y'all.


	17. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus and TJ face off against enemies they were never prepared to battle: a series of closed doors with women behind them.

The walk to Andi's apartment was the second most uncomfortable six-and-a-half minutes of my life. So uncomfortable, I couldn’t bear to pay much attention to anything that existed outside of my own head. TJ trailed behind me the whole way there, never falling behind but also never letting himself get any closer than what must have seemed a safe distance—about three feet back and a little bit to the left. Never closer. The traffic got noticeably heavier as we got closer to our goal, each car zooming past filled my head with a much-appreciated respite from the silence for a few precious seconds, saving me from the intense awkwardness happening behind me. Whenever there was a break in the string of reckless drivers, I knew TJ was preparing himself to say something—I heard him drawing in a deep breath and holding it as he psyched himself up—but he was never able to get a word out before another sedan sped past and shattered the silence. He didn't say a single word the rest of the way to Andi's door.

And I had nothing more to say to him.

That's a lie. I had a lot more to say to him. There were words ricocheting around my skull with every step I took. I was angry, I was confused, I was sad... I wanted to undo everything, rewind the night to the moment before I came out to TJ and just... 

I don't know. Stop this all from happening. Do something that would result in a different situation than the one I was living. Anything different. Not that I really knew what I wanted. My feelings were so conflicted; my desire to not be angry at TJ was almost as strong as my desire to not be angry at Andi, and yet I could still feel lava in the back of my throat when I thought about speaking to either of them.

My brain was so preoccupied deciding what to do with that lava, with what I wanted to say to my crush and my best friend—did I even want to say the same thing to both of them?—that I didn't even realize I was staring at Andi's front door until TJ coughed.

The door looked so normal, just like all the other ones that lined the hallway around us. But I knew what was behind it. For just a second, it was like all the anger crackling through my bones disappeared. I looked over at TJ and all I could feel was anxiety wrapping itself around the muscles of my body, keeping me stuck in place—keeping me from knocking on the door. I wanted TJ to do it. I wanted TJ to protect me. 

No.

I shook my head, scattering the fear that had started to cloud my mind, and swallowed around the lump in my throat. Being in front of Andi's door at that moment was entirely my decision. TJ had nothing to do with it anymore. I was going to be the one to take charge.

Steeling my nerves, I knocked—three times in rapid succession—and waited anxiously for a response.

Beside me, I could see TJ eyeing the doorbell. Crap, that probably would have been the better option, wouldn't it? Less ignorable, but also less aggressive—

"Cyrus? What are you doing here? And... hello, with a child I've never seen before, apparently."

The door opened to reveal Bex, dressed comfortably in a fluffy blue robe but with her face and hair made up to go out. Or maybe she had just come back from going out. The stark difference between face and outfit sent my head spinning for some reason, like it couldn't comprehend what I was seeing. She gripped her fuzzy lapels as I stared like an idiot, holding them closed tightly at her neck as her eyes bounced from TJ to me and back to TJ. And I...

Froze.

I completely froze.

It was like all the confidence, the anger, the drive—the fire I'd been feeling in my stomach and throat for so long just... disappeared into the wind.

"Hello? Earth to Goodman. Did your Mom drop you off, Cy? How did you two even get in here? Did Bowie buzz you in?"

That was a good question. How did we get in? Their apartment complex required a key fob or being buzzed in to get through the front door. But... to be honest, I couldn't recall the majority of what happened between when I started walking and when I found myself standing outside the apartment door. Everything was such a blur, and my brain wasn't exactly working at peak performance.

"We door-surfed behind an old lady with a corgi," TJ offered beside me. "Well, I'm the one that grabbed the door before it closed. Cyrus just, um... walked in." The other boy's voice sounded a bit creaky after the tense silence I had just forced on him, but at least he was able to talk.

I turned to look at him, trying to convey 'We did what?' with my eyes. The jock turned away, sheepishly muttering 'sorry' to the hallway carpet.

"Well thanks for that, mystery-kid. Glad to know Ms. Maplethorne is the biggest hole in our security. Do I even want to know how a kid your age learned that particular form of illegal entry, or—no, y'know what, I have a feeling you already know you're not supposed to be doing that. Right?" Bex rolled her eyes as TJ nodded, still staring firmly at a very uninteresting patch of carpet.

My brain started to fill with endless things I could say to Bex, words that might gain me entry to see Andi. While her attention was still focused on TJ, I tried to create a game plan, but everything that came to mind just sounded wrong. Every time I thought I had found something to say, something to reignite that fire I had been counting on, it sputtered and got stuck in my throat.

"Well, that's one mystery solved. Now to the question of why the two of you are..." Bex turned to me and I watched as a look of... remorse, I think, came over her face. She let out a sigh as her eyes locked with mine, and I immediately knew that everything was for naught. It wasn't going to work out. "I think it's a pretty safe bet you're not here to see me or Bowie, are you Cy?"

A thousand words, each a possible path of response, died on my tongue. I shook my head, suddenly unable to meet her eyes.

"I... I'm sorry, bud. I don't think Andi wants to see anyone right now." I felt a hand grip my shoulder and slowly followed the fuzzy blue sleeve with my eyes back to Andi's mom's face. She didn't look happy to be saying that—her painted lips were screwed into a small sad smile and her eyes were offering me even more apologies. "Maybe next time, kiddo."

I nodded. Bex's hand gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before she backed off and started stepping back into her entryway.

"Are you two okay getting home? Do I need to call you an Uber? Two Ubers?" she asked, door half shut and closing fast. That was it. This was my chance to try to fix things, to force the issue, to make something happen on my time-table, and I'd screwed it up. I'd frozen. I was useless. The fire had burned out. My throat felt like it had closed up entirely as Bex gave me one more apologetic look and turned, swinging the door behind her—effectively shutting me out of my opportunity to fix things.

My last opportunity, probably. A small, fiendish part of my brain eagerly exclaimed that if Buffy and I had made no progress in a week... it was probably already too late. The sound of the door slamming into the jamb was going to represent the end of my second longest friendship. Just like that, it would all be over. I couldn't bear to watch.

I closed my eyes, and prepared to deal with the overwhelming despair I could sense lurking over my shoulder.

Except, a slamming door wasn't the sound that rang throughout the hallway as I prepared for my last hope to die.

A scream of pain did.

"Crap! Frick! Grraaah!" I looked up, confused, just in time to see the apartment door bounce back open as TJ clutched desperately at the fingers on his right hand. The blond was hopping around, hurling self-censored expletives down the hallway as Bex spun around in the blink of an eye.

"Woah, kid, are you okay?" Andi's mom took a step back out, concern seeping into her voice, looking like she wasn't sure what to do with her hands. She kept reaching toward TJ before pulling back quickly. In the center of the hallway, the other boy continued to hop around until he pulled his uninjured hand up to his mouth and bit down on his knuckle, waving the other hand in the air in front of him. "Jeez, are you crazy? Please tell me I didn't break some kid's finger right before my first date night in three weeks."

TJ's pained expressions mellowed slightly as he brought his hand away from his lips. His face was still screwed up in a grimace, but I could hear him purposefully slowing down his breathing. He looked over at me, meeting my eyes for just a second before shifting his stare back to Bex, and in that instant, it was like he had shocked a switch back on. I could feel the fire growing in my stomach again. He turned to face the doorway, a new look of determination on his face.

"Don't close the door on us," the blond forced out, still a little breathless from the pain. "Please, Ms. Mack... just let Cyrus talk. He needs to see Andi. Tonight."

"Tough to argue with a kid willing to sacrifice his own limbs." Bex turned to me, a questioning look on her face. I swallowed around the lump in my throat, and it felt suddenly easier. Like whatever had been blocking my words from coming out was being burnt up.

"Please, Bex," my words crackled weakly first, but a quick cough and I was back to sounding normal. "Just... just let me present my case. I think you know as much as I do how badly the two of us need to talk. She avoids me everywhere else, I... look, you know I hate conflict. I wouldn't be here if I didn't know what else to do."

A moment passed as Bex looked back and forth from my pleading face to TJ's pained one. I watched her bring a thumb to her lips and start nibbling at the nail, debating back and forth inside her own head. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until I felt my lungs start to burn.

"I have missed your face around here, lately," Bex sighed, stepping back into the entryway and opening the door wider. "Am I a bad mom for doing this? Ugh. You teenagers are all so dramatic. Alright kiddo, I'm going to check out your friend here and make sure I haven't just broken half the bones in his hand, hmm?" She stepped to the side, leaving enough space for us to enter the apartment. "In the meantime, you, Mr. Goodman, are going to be explaining everything my daughter has been keeping from me for the past few weeks, okay? And if—if!—at the end of that explanation, I think that you talking to Andi isn't just going to make her more upset... then I will let you see her."

"Absolutely. Thank you so much, Bex!" I shot through the doorway, brain starting to freak out again as soon as I looked around the apartment I hadn't set foot inside of in over a week. Understandably, it hadn't changed much. But now what? I honestly hadn't expected to make it so far. I could feel my pulse increase just stepping through the doorway, it was like my body knew that Andi was just a few feet away and wanted to make me as much a mess as possible. To the left, I could hear some incredibly loud music coming from under Andi's door.

It sounded like the playlist she made for when Jonah was making her said. That playlist got a lot of use...

"Thank you, Ms. Mack." TJ followed close behind me—notably still making sure to stay at least two or three feet away from me at all times.

I wasn't sure how to feel about that, so I chose to ignore it.

"Just call me Bex, kid. And next time, try stopping the door with your foot, please? Shoes are strong and they help us avoid the chance of an ER visit. Now here, give me your hand," Bex fell onto the couch and held out her open palm expectantly, "and let's start with your name, yeah? Go get some frozen peas from the freezer, Cy? And then you're up."

Frozen peas. Frozen peas. I could do that. How hard is it to find a bag of frozen peas? In a freezer? Which surely has peas. The frozen kind. Not hard at all. I found them in a few seconds. See? This is easy. Nothing to worry about. No need to freak out.

Definitely not freaking out.

"Hey babe, what's going on out—oh... we have guests." I looked up to see Bowie, hair still wet from the shower, but fully dressed in a snazzy shirt and jeans. His eyes were dancing skeptically from TJ to me to Bex, a look of resignation already dawning on his face.

"We do have guests, honey, how astute of you. You know Cyrus, and this injured young man I have just learned is called TJ." Bex took the bag of peas from my hands and pressed them to TJ's palm, never taking her eyes off Bowie. 

TJ waved in his direction, offering a soft, "Hi, Mr. Mack."

Man, I really need to catch that boy up on the Mack family history.

Maybe once I'm not mad at him anymore.

"We have guests... on date night?" Bowie asked, nodding weakly back at TJ.

"I think date night is going to have to be postponed, dear." Bex scrunched up her face, somewhere between an apology and a 'deal with it' look. "Parenting calls. Could you call the restaurant and cancel the reservations?"

"You know, I think after the third cancellation they black-list our names." Bowie chuckled, grabbing his phone from his pocket anyway. "Besides, um, didn't she say—"

"I'm claiming a parental overrule. Maybe." Bex looked over at me, and I realized I had been standing awkwardly in the middle of their living room for the last minute. I hurriedly fell into the cushy loveseat next to her, trying my best to look relaxed. Between the anxiety and whatever that fiery feeling was, I don't think I did a very good job. "First I'm going to hear Cyrus out, then we'll see if he'll make it through the great wall of emo music."

"Okay, well..." Bowie rubbed at the back of his neck, looking over at me before sighing. "Do you think I should be here too?"

"One parent is probably enough," Bex offered a small smile.

"Then I'm going to go pick up some take out from The Great Wall, I guess..."

"You know my order."

"I'll be back in twenty," and with another quick look of concern between TJ and myself, Bowie grabbed his keys and wallet and headed out the door. Somehow leaving me even more anxious that I had been before he walked in.

"Well, now that dinner's been decided..." Bex had taken to closely inspecting TJ's fingers. The middle one was definitely looking swollen and a bit purple as she shifted the athlete's hand around to look at it from different angles. After a few pokes and prods, each resulting in a wince from the unfortunate blond, she sighed and replaced the frozen peas. "I'm no doctor, but I don't think it's broken. Probably won't be fun writing with for the next few days, but you'll survive, kid. Now, Mr. Goodman, the floor is yours."

Alright. Alright. Bex turned on the couch to face me, wearing a look I often saw adorning my parents' faces. The 'now is the time to talk and be honest with no judgment' face. Her's wasn't as practiced as my Mom's though.

Unfortunately, despite the return of the fire and ample time to think, I had not yet figured out what I was going to say.

"Um... how much do you know?" I found my eyes shifting to catch glimpses of TJ, but he was pointedly looking at the coffee table.

"Well I know I haven't seen Buffy around for a month because of some boy drama. And I know you came over last weekend, and by the time I got home, my daughter was in an even worse mood, so I figure something happened there that I'm not too sure about. I also know she asked me to pick her up early on Monday, and that even since then, it's been nothing but break up songs and emo music from the time I was your age," Bex motioned towards the closed door covered in pictures and crafting projects just as a new song started playing. "So... I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say you two got in a fight."

"We... did. Yeah." 

"Now, as a mom, I think I'm always supposed to take my daughter's side on things like this. So... should I not, here? C'mon Cy, I'm gonna need some information."

My brain started filling in with so many questions, I didn't know what to say. How was I supposed to respond to that? Was it even wise to try to convince her to be on my side? Was that even my goal? How much information was too much, here? Why was this all so hard? How did I think I would be able to handle talking to Andi when I couldn't even get past her mom?

"I think your daughter is on the wrong side of their fight, um, Bex." TJ's voice came out of nowhere, sounding like all the things I wanted to be right then. Calm. Strong. Confident.

"Well, thank you TJ, but I want to hear what Cyrus has to say." Bex gave TJ a light pat on the shoulder but never turned her eyes away from me. It felt like they were drilling into my soul. I had to find a spot on the carpet to stare at to keep my heart steady.

"It's um... it's complicated," I choked out, hoping to be done with this as soon as possible. I wanted to sink into the deep cushions of my seat. Unfortunately, I didn't have to wait for Bex's reply to know that that wouldn't be enough. "Some of it would take a really long time to explain, but... I guess it started because I felt like Andi, um, she didn't care about me as much as she wanted me to care about her."

I looked up from the carpet and saw Bex offer me a soft smile. Behind her, I saw TJ's shoulders sag as he let out a long breath. 

"No one's worse at reciprocity than a kid who's feeling slighted," Bex offered.

"Yeah, well... after that she sorta, um..." crap, how much do I say? My brain happily reminded me that it had been my Mom who had spread the truth of Bex's parental relationship with Andi to the entire town. What if I told Bex... and she wanted revenge? "She told my, uh... my biggest secret to the worst possible person," I coughed.

Bex's face remained placid, but I'd spent enough time with psychiatrists to know there was a whole explosion of conflicted thoughts going on behind her serene mask. I wondered—not for the first time—if young, cool, liberal Bex had connected the dots about the awkward, unathletic, artsy boy with two female best friends and a history of acting weird around boys his age. I searched her eyes for a look of recognition, for a hint as to what she was planning on saying, but the blood pumping through my body was too hot to be able to focus.

"I think she's been avoiding me because she's scared of what I'll say," I continued.

"And what will you say? 'Cause I may be the cool Mom, but I'm not gonna let you in there if you're just planning on yelling at my daughter."

I was quiet for a moment because I honestly didn't know how to answer. Was I going to yell at her? Was that what I wanted? I tried to push past the anxiety and its queasiness and focus on the fire of anger that I still felt burning in my guts. Did it feel like that flame was going to flare up again as soon as I saw Andi's face?

I looked over at TJ, and realized that he was staring at me just like Bex was. For just a second, our eyes met.

"No." I didn't realize I had said it out loud until Bex raised an eyebrow. "I... I mean, I don't know exactly what I'm going to say. But I'm not here to yell at her." I could feel the embers of my outrage throwing off heat, boiling away in my stomach, but... for once, under control. As I turned to look Bex in the eye I got the feeling that the sickly heat was probably going to be sticking around for a very long time. But I didn't have to let it control me. 

"True, you don't exactly seem like the yelling type," I heard TJ let out a quick exhale-laugh behind her, but opted not to send a glare in his direction. Instead, I stayed focused on Bex.

"I'm not here to end a friendship." My voice surprised me a little. It sounded calm, strong, and completely confident.

Bex returned my stare trying to drill into my soul with her mind, but I held strong. Finally, after what felt like hours, she blinked and let out a sigh.

"I have the feeling this betrayal is going to be the subject of many a rant in my future, but... fine. You can talk to her. Assuming you can get her to turn off the music so that you can actually hear each other speak. Her door isn't locked, but you should probably knock."

With a nod, I stood up and started mentally preparing myself as I began to walk towards Andi's room. That purple, photo covered door was now the only obstacle standing in my way. Behind me, I heard Bex turn to TJ and ask what his 'story' was, but I couldn't focus on anything except what was right in front of me. One simple, wooden door; a song about California blasted from behind it and quickly drowned out the conversation starting up behind me.

One door.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Nothing.

And then, for the first time since I'd entered the apartment, the music stopped, and there was silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, the amount of support I have received after the last few chapters has been absolutely insane. This chapter was tough, and I'm sure you were hoping for a bit more plot, but if I had actually started the conversation with Andi it would have gone another 2000 or more words, probably. The next chapter is going to be... big. Real big. Because even if this is a Tyrus fic, the central conflict has really been this Cyrus/Andi fight, and next chapter will decide how it ends...
> 
> Tell me what you think!


	18. Fix Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been just over a week since Cyrus and Andi spoke to each other. A lot of things have changed in that week, and it's time for the silence to end.

"Cyrus? What are..."

Andi's room was notably messier than it had been a week ago. There were about a dozen empty mugs littered all around, tea bags still hanging their life-lines over the side, taunting me with the fact that Andi only drank tea when she was really upset. Equally many craft projects, each clearly abandoned very early on in their construction and planning, littered the floor near the bed—yet another sign of emotional distress. Of course, Andi was right there on the bed, but I wasn’t ready to look that direction yet. I felt a lot more comfortable inspecting the floor and the window and the desk—anywhere but the bed where the pixie-haired girl was sitting in front of me.

"I, uh... I like the song choice," I forced the words out around the lump in my throat as I took a step into her room, referencing the mostly muted guitars still playing from her speakers. "I don't think I've ever heard that one before."

My goal was to defuse some of the tension as I closed the door behind me, but I don't think it worked. I could feel the awkwardness in the air, the whole room was thick with it. Still, I tried to give off a calm and collected vibe as I leaned back against the door and continued to look at everything in the room except the person I was there to speak to. I’m sure I did an absolutely horrible job hiding how much I was freaking out inside, but I had to try.

Do you think I should have left the door open to keep her from feeling trapped? Would that have been more awkward? I don't know! I was so focused on trying to figure out what I wanted to say that every move I made was a complete mystery to me. All I could think about was what words to say next.

The fire in my gut was battling it out with the anxiety in my throat, which was trying everything it could to smother the flames. Anger and nerves were keeping each other in check and leaving me with nothing to say.

Too scared to blow up, too angry to leave.

And Andi stayed silent on her bed, which unfortunately threw a wrench in my hopes of starting the conversation with something... easy. So...

Second time's the charm?

"Bex, um... she mentioned it was from when she was, like, our age. Or something. Did she introduce you to it, or..." I honestly don't know why I was talking about music. In retrospect, it was a pretty stupid conversation choice. My brain was blanking on anything musical outside of the Top 40, so I don't know what I would have done if she'd actually tried to answer my question.

Not that it mattered. My attempt at levity clearly had no effect on the girl frozen in place on the safety of her bed.

"Are you..." my head snapped up from looking at the starfish half-cut from a sheet of felt and landed on wide brown eyes. I felt like my fear was being reflected right back at me as she returned my stare. "I guess you're probably here to yell at me..."

Andi's voice was small—already betraying the likelihood of tears to come—and immediately there was a new emotion battling for control over my brain. A watery, calming feeling that told me to reach out and pull my friend into a hug, tell her everything was going to be okay—that she didn't need to be sad. It was the antithesis to my fiery anger. I recognized it immediately. It was the same feeling I had associated with love and friendship and happiness my entire life. That self-sacrificial desire to help others that had always ruled me. Seeing the sadness and resignation on my best friend's face had only made it stronger.

It felt so right to give in to that instinct. I mean, it’s what I had always done. I could picture it all in my head, an entire future flashing before my eyes. I would listen to my heart and give Andi a hug and tell her it was all okay. She would apologize, and then I would apologize, and we would probably both cry, and things would... go back to the way they were. Andi would say something about how she fully believes in my ability to get Jonah on a date, and I would tell her about TJ, and everything would feel wonderful again.

And then a few months later she would do something that made me feel like a secondary character in my own life all over again because...

If things just go back to the way they were, it's because nothing's really changed.

And I needed something to change.

"I was here to yell at you," I coughed to clear my throat, surprised by the relative steadiness of my voice, "but I promised Bex that I wouldn't. So..."

A look of surprise and confusion came over Andi's face. I don't know if she expected me to scream at her or comfort her, but clearly, she didn't expect something in the middle.

"So why are you here?"

"To talk, Andi. I mean, yeah, we need to talk. It's been a week already and you’ve done nothing but avoid me after... what happened. That's ridiculous! We've never gone this long letting things be this... this bad!" Without realizing it, I had started running my hand through my hair. My nervous hands were surely increasing its puffiness to a laughable level, but I couldn't help the anxious habit.

"I've never given you this much reason to... hate me." Andi shifted on the bed bringing her knees in a little tighter. 

Of course she thought I hated her. Even after everything she had put me through, I felt a twinge in my heart when I heard her say that. Mostly because there were a few times over the past week where... I did. Hate her. I think. But really, isn't that fair? After what she did, what she told Jonah? Didn't I deserve my outrage, at least occasionally? With a heavy sigh, I slid down the door until I was sitting on the ground, legs splayed out in front of me. This was already so painful...

I knew from the look on her face that she hadn't said that to hear me agree with her.

"I don't hate you, Andi," I responded, letting my words out slowly and deliberately. I heard Andi let out a long breath in relief, but instead of meeting her eyes I focused on the frayed hem of my hoodie. Because... I really didn't want to see her face when I said the next part. "But... I should. I should hate you."

The silence that filled the room made the pounding of my heart echo even louder in my head. Nervous energy filled my body and I couldn't help but fidget as neither of us made a sound. I knew, as soon as those words left my mouth, that the conversation was never going to end with everything just going back to normal.

Old Cyrus would never even consider the possibility of hating one of his friends.

"I think," I pressed forward after the silence got to be too much, "we both know that if I was any other person... you telling Jonah would have been the end of our friendship. Flat out. Like... that's it, no more, maybe we'll reconcile at our ten-year high school reunion, but..." I sighed. "I just can't believe you told him, Andi."

"I'm so... so sorry, Cy."

"Do you have any idea how much that hurt? To know that one fight was all it took for you to betray my trust? What were you thinking! You said it was an accident—how do you accidentally tell your best friend's biggest secret?"

"I wasn't. I wasn't thinking, Cy. I didn't want—I didn't even realize what I had said until the words were out of my mouth, I swear. I swear on my life, Cyrus." Andi fumbled around on her bed and I finally stopped focusing on my fidgeting hands and looked up to see her getting on her knees, hands clasped in front of her chest.

"How did it even come up?" I asked, trying to ignore the slight wobble in my voice. In all honesty, I'm not sure that it mattered. But I wanted to know exactly what had happened, anyway.

"I was..." Andi's voice faltered a little, "I was talking with Jonah, and... we talked about what was bothering me so much—"

"So you were talking about me?" I let out a weak laugh. After all, my outburst had been the start of this whole mess.

"No! No, it was... we were just, um, commiserating. About how, no matter who we're interested in, it always seems like there's someone else who likes them too. Jonah ranted about how annoyed he got because of the high school boys with Amber, and how lame he felt compared to Walker when it came to me... and I didn't even think. I just followed his lead, and I, um, complained about how caught off guard I was by Buffy's interest in Walker, how weird I feel about how happy they seem to be, and before I even realized what I was saying..." Andi's voice got progressively quieter as she spoke; I almost had to lean in to hear her.

"I brought up your crush. I wanted to talk about how I never, um... never knew how to be a good friend about that. I mean, was I supposed to stop going after him when you told me, or—or was I supposed to act like we were romantic rivals? Honestly, I had no idea what I was supposed to do, but then... before I could get into any of that, I realized what I was saying. I just... I freaked out. I hung up and prayed that he hadn't been paying attention, but it was too late. I would have given anything to take it back, Cy, to just make him forget I ever said anything, but it was..."

It was too late.

A thousand questions were flying through my head. I wanted to know how it could have possibly been so simple. I wanted to know how much she understood. Like, did she understand just how big of a thing she had taken away from me? I had spent countless hours trying to figure out how I wanted to come out to my first ever male friend, only to have the choice taken away from me by... What would she have done if Jonah had reacted poorly—if the worst had happened? If a rumor had started? Had she ever been planning on doing anything more than texting me that she was sorry and just... running away?

"Why didn't you just... ask me how I wanted you to react to me liking Jonah?" Of all the questions ricocheting around my skull, that was the one that stuck out to me the most.

"Why didn't... I already felt like a horrible person, Cy, for not knowing how to handle it. I didn't want to make my failure obvious to you too," Andi muttered, falling back to sit against her pillows. "And I didn't want to make you feel weird or think I didn't know how to handle you being gay. I wanted you to feel like everything was... normal, I guess."

"So you just ignored it?" I scoffed. "That's normal?"

"Well you never brought it back up, so—"

"It's sort of a really freaking uncomfortable thing to bring up, Andi!" I tried to use my facial expression to convey how ridiculous her response sounded. What did she expect? A weekly reminder that, oh yeah, I like your boyfriend too?

"I get that, I understand, I swear I do. And you’re right, I'm sorry; it was so so dumb of me to think of it like that. You're absolutely right, I should have just asked you; friends are supposed to talk about things like that. I just..."

"You took the easy route. Asking me would have been awkward, so you pretended that the big, important, terrifying fact about me just... didn't exist. Because it was too inconvenient." I laid it out for her, exactly what had been formulating itself in my mind. I was tired of skirting around the issue.

"Just like everyone does," I added, under my breath.

"That's not... that's not what I thought I was doing." Andi's voice came out slowly as she hugged a small pillow to her chest.

"What did you think you were doing? Because that’s how I see it."

"I... I thought I was just making everything easier. For everyone. If we never had to talk about the awkward thing—about you also liking Jonah—then we could all just go back to being friends with no complication. But it's not that I wanted to ignore the fact that you're gay... I just, sorta, wanted to ignore the fact that you like Jonah..."

"Liked Jonah," I clarified, unthinkingly. "But the stupid thing is, those two facts—me being gay, and me liking Jonah—they were essentially the same in my mind. Back then, at least. Two sides of the same coin. Can't ignore one without the other."

"I..." Andi paused and shook her head, as if considering a thought and then deciding better of it. "I never meant to hurt you like that, Cy. I never wanted to make you feel like I didn’t... appreciate who you are.

"Well, I hope you start to realize that the way you act and the things you say—or don't say—it has an effect. It can hurt other people. And it really... freaking hurts to feel like your best friend is willing to ignore a huge part of you just so she can have an easier time with a boy. Honestly, you outing me to Jonah... doesn't even come close to hurting as much as that."

It was weird hearing my voice lay it out so simply because it almost felt like the words were spilling from my mouth before my brain could fully compose the thoughts. But it was the truth. I knew it was. Andi outing me had hurt—a lot—but I could accept that as a horrible, stupid, careless mistake. It was nothing compared to knowing that one of the people who was supposed to care the most for me would rather ignore who I was. Who I was becoming.

"I’m sorry, Cy. I had no idea. This whole time I thought I was being a good friend... all because, what, I didn't freak out when you came out? I didn't even realize... wow. I really suck, don't I?"

I nodded, pursing my lips.

"I... I understand if you can't forgive me," Andi's voice was thick as she sniffled into the pillow.

"I haven't forgiven you," I grunted lightly as I pushed myself up to standing. After pausing for a second, I took a deep breath and stretched a little, using the brief silence to decide what I wanted to say next. By that point, we had already covered most of... everything. For the first time in what felt like ages, the war of emotions raging inside me seemed to calm, and I felt surprisingly confident.

"But, like I told your mom," I continued, walking closer until I was at the edge of her bed. "I'm not here to end a friendship." Andi eyed me carefully as I took a seat on the plush comforter bundled up at the end of the bed.

"Does that mean..."

"Do you... I mean, do you even want to be friends with me, anymore?" For just a second my throat started to close up again as I said that, but I coughed away the resurging anxiety. "I mean... with all of me? All the fun stuff, yeah, but also dealing with my problems, too? Including that I may like the same boy as you again in the future?"

Andi started nodding before I even finished my question. "Yes. Please, Cy. I can't lose my best friend. I can’t lose you. I love you. I—I’ll do anything! Let me prove it to you.”

"I'm glad you put it like that," I let a faint smile slide onto my lips for the first time since I entered the apartment. "Because I've been trying to think of what you could do to prove to me that you really mean that, and to prove that you really are thinking about others, and..." I turned to face her, taking in the look of hope and relief that was slowly taking over her posture, "I want you to fix things with Buffy."

"Fix things...?"

"I want us to all be friends again, Andi. I have no desire to go back to being two sets of two again. So, if you want to fix your friendship with me... first you have to fix your friendship with her. On your own. I've been stuck in the middle of you two way too much lately."

"I... I can do that," Andi looked up, nodding with a big forced smile on her lips. Maybe pushing some boundaries a bit, I reached over and gave her arm a quick squeeze before pushing off the bed. It felt good to see that she was confident, but having been on Buffy's bad side after TJ got her kicked off the basketball team, I knew my crafty friend was in for a fight.

And I'm not entirely ashamed to admit that the thought made me smile just a little bit wider.

"I really hope you do. The faster the better. Then we can all meet at The Spoon, and I'll catch you up on everything you've missed," I said, taking my time reaching for the door handle. “It’s been a crazy week. A crazy month, really.”

"Right, I... um, thanks, Cy," Andi called out as I began to pull open the door. "I... I'm gonna do it, okay? I promise. I'll call Buffy first thing in the morning. I just... I..."

"Love you too, Andi Mack."

That shut up the girl with a pixie cut, but I caught a glimpse of the real, honest smile growing on her face before I turned back around. It was a nice smile. A smile I had missed dearly over the past week.

"Talk to you soon, I hope."

++++++++++++++++++++++

"Alright, gentlemen. Where am I taking you?"

Bex had insisted that she didn't feel comfortable letting two kids walk alone so late at night—even in a town as safe as Shadyside—not so much offering us a ride as demanding that we let her drive us. When I had exited Andi's room, she and TJ had quickly stopped whatever they were intensely discussing—vinyl records, maybe?—but thankfully neither of them tried to question me about what had transpired behind Andi's door. Just a quick nod from me—maybe it was even a 'cool guy nod'—and Bex gave the other boy an unreadable look before jumping up and fishing her keys out of her bag. 

One quick debate later—which I lost—and we were piling into Bex's slightly messy car like the worlds most awkward Uber. The whole scene was just topped off by the fact that Bex was still wearing her fluffy blue robe.

"TJ here told me you came from his house, but you're gonna have to direct me because my phone is dead," Bex held up her device, showing off how useless its black screen would be as a navigation tool. 

"Actually, um," TJ spoke up from the back seat. I could feel him staring at the back of my head as he paused for a breath; I licked my lips, staring straight ahead as the awkwardness in the car grew even thicker. "First you can take Cyrus—"

"Turn left onto the street," I overruled, pointing in the direction of TJ's house. "Chateau Kippen isn't too far from here."

"Right away, Monsieur," Bex replied in a horrible french accent before readjusting the rear-view mirror. Behind me, I heard TJ settle back into the seat, and I tried not to imagine what his face looked like as we pulled out on road.

By car, TJ's house was only five minutes away—even if the jock had to interrupt my directions at one point to make sure we were going the right way. Five very short minutes, which was not nearly enough time to prepare for what I knew would happen after we both bid Bex farewell from the sidewalk outside that modern mansion.

"Why didn't you tell her to take you home?" TJ asked, his voice a mixture of hopeful, unsure, and something I couldn't discern. 

"Because..." I turned and let myself get my first good look at TJ since I'd yelled at him over an hour before. He looked rough. His hair—which he hadn't styled after his shower—was puffy and messy, like he had been running his hands through it all night. On his right hand, his middle and ring finger were wrapped together in thick white bandages that I knew were mostly there to hide the swollen, purple mess beneath them. It was obvious he was in pain—he kept flinching slightly every time he accidentally twitched the fingers on his right hand, and his face had settled into a permanent grimace. And when I tried to look him in the eye, he was already looking at the ground. 

"Even if I'm still mad at you—which I am—I'm not... that mad at you. I really... really don't want to be mad at you, TJ. Talking with Andi was... it was tough. And I don't want to walk away from anyone else right now."

"I think can handle that. I'm used to people being mad at me." I watched TJ's shoulders fall, visibly releasing their tension as the ghost of a grin grew on his lips. "But... I'm sorry, Cyrus. For, y'know, all the things. But also, that you had to go through that. Did you... is there anything that I can—that you want me to do?"

"I'm just tired. Like, really tired. I was not expecting to both come out to you and accost Andi in the same night. Ya' boy's exhausted." TJ chuckled and I felt a smile growing on my own lips in response. "Do you think we could just... I really, really want a cookie. Can we eat junk food and drink soda and watch cartoons until we're ready to pass out? Like a normal sleepover?"

"No more dramatic reveals?"

"No more dramatic anything, please." I could feel the energy draining from my body as we started making our way back around the Kippen house. Clearly, the worst part about being filthy rich is how long it takes to get back to your bedroom when all you want to do is pass out. I really needed sugar.

"One more thing? And then I promise it's nothing but junk food and cartoons for the rest of the night." TJ slipped his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, wincing as the bandage caught briefly on the hem.

"As long as it's quick. And not too depressing." I waved my hand. Honestly, I should just learn to expect that my life will never truly be non-dramatic.

"Not too depressing, no. Just one more apology. I'm sorry for acting... weird when you came out tonight. I'm really happy you told me. And... yeah. That's it. Just... sorry and thanks."

"Apology accepted," I nodded, waiting for TJ to input the code to unlock the back door.

"Sweet."

"Now, if you don't mind, point me towards the cookies and get out of my way."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Are you awake?"

The cookie, candy, and cartoon craze had only lasted me until around eleven-thirty before the bottom fell out of my energy reserves. TJ had struggled valiantly to get the auto-filling air mattress to inflate, but eventually, we both had to admit that it just wasn't going to happen. As a result, I had been about twenty seconds away from curling up with a blanket on his couch when TJ physically pushed me onto his bed, saying there was no way in hell his guest was going to sleep anywhere else.

I had planned to argue—really, I did—but the way I sank into the plush comforter as TJ set up the couch for himself left me feeling too content to put up much of a fight.

And so, wrapped up in an incredibly warm comforter and the soft, cool sheets, I sank into the mattress of TJ's king-sized bed and waited for dreams to take me.

And I waited.

And I waited. 

And I waited.

But sleep never came.

I don't know how long I laid there, trying fruitlessly to quiet my mind enough to achieve the sleep I so desperately wanted, but it was definitely after midnight when I gave up. I just had to admit to myself that it wasn't going to happen.

Other than my regular tossing and turning, the room had been dark and silent for quite some time when I finally gave in and pushed myself up on my elbows so that I could see the back of the couch.

"TJ, are you asleep?" I repeated in a half-whisper. I didn't really want to wake him up if he truly was asleep, but I also didn't feel like being completely alone in my wakefulness. Under my breath, I counted slowly to ten as I waited for a reply or any sign of consciousness. If he didn't say anything, I'd try one more time before—

"Yeah, Underdog. I'm awake." TJ's voice was interrupted by a big yawn as I heard him shift around on the couch. The only part I could see of him was his feet hanging off the edge of one of the armrests, so I could only imagine the look on his face. I figured it was probably half-asleep and a little bit frustrated. "This thing is surprisingly uncomfortable to sleep on. What's up, are you okay?"

"I can't sleep..." I admitted, suddenly feeling very small in the middle of the other boy's giant bed.

"Is it my bed?"

"No, your bed is fine."

"Is it because of the scary movie?"

"No..."

"Is it because you came out to me?" I saw TJ's feet start to fidget across the room, illuminated only by the winter moonlight.

"No..."

"Is it... because of what happened at Andi's?"

"No..." I curled my fingers around the fabric of the comforter, enjoying the cool feeling on my skin.

"Then I'm all out of guesses. What is it, Underdog?"

"Okay, well... maybe it is, um... all three of those things." I felt myself blushing, relieved that no one could see how stupid I felt.

I heard TJ chuckle and mutter something unintelligible under his breath before responding. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

I pushed myself all the way up to sitting, chewing at my bottom lip. There was something I wanted TJ to do. And it's not like he hadn't done it before, but...

"Um... it's just, I don't want to, um, y'know... make you feel uncomfortable or anything. And you can totally say 'no' if it's not—"

"Cyrus, what do you want."

"I could really use a hug."

Silence. 

More silence.

I started to wonder if maybe TJ had fallen asleep—that was the more pleasant path of thought compared to the idea that I had stepped over some new boundary of his—and was ready to resign myself to a lonely sleepless night when I saw his head pop up over the back of the couch. In the faint light of the moon, I saw him rest his arm on the cushions and turn to me. There was something about the way he returned my stare that was… more than normal.

“Move over.”

Without thinking too much—because if I tried to think, my exhausted brain would probably have broken—I shifted over to one side of the bed as TJ tossed his blanket to the ground and tip-toed his way over to me. He seemed to be acting on instinct up until he realized he was climbing onto his bed a foot away from me. That’s when the reality of the situation seemed to hit him and he suddenly got flustered. 

"Like, um... like this?" the other boy held out his arms wide, looking rapidly from his hand, to me, to the bed, to the wall behind my head...

And yeah, it was a little awkward. And I was a tad worried that it might have been a bit uncomfortable for TJ to hug his newly-gay friend. And the comforter sort of tangled between our knees...

But it was exactly what I needed.

As TJ's arms wrapped around my back and pulled me tight to his chest, my brain finally went silent. There was nothing but warmth: all over my chest, on my left cheek that was pressed against the other boy's shoulder, on my back where his thumb was slowly rubbing up and down. I was burning and on fire and it was exactly what I wanted. 

It was almost overwhelming for a second...

But then it wasn't. It was just calm.

Wonderful, beautiful, happy... calm.

And I have no idea how long we stayed like that, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up to a sun-lit room, cozy under the comforter, and feeling amazingly well rested. And then I turned to the side, and there, snoring lightly against a pillow, with an impressive case of bed-head, was the peaceful face of TJ Kippen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez, this was a tough chapter to write. I really had to go into the conversation between Andi and Cyrus almost completely blind, and just let their characters work it out. It was a bit painful to write, but I hope it wasn't too painful to read. And as a thank you for getting through all of that, you get a very special tyrus hug! Please comment, bookmark, and subscribe! Only two more chapters left, so don't be shy! Show me your love!


	19. Photographic Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After such a crazy night, Cyrus and TJ deserve some time to relax, reflect, and reconsider. Don't you think?

"So, Cyrus, my brother says you're a big dork for dinosaurs."

Sitting across the table from me, eyeing me down over a bowl of granola, TJ's younger sister lobbed what must have been her twentieth question of the morning. Despite the relatively early hour—and having come from a sleepover of her own—we had already covered my favorite music, books, and movies, thoughts on sports, what my parents did, and what it was like reading aloud from the Torah during my Bar Mitzvah. I was still half asleep, but Sally Kippen was awake and full of energy, and not afraid to show it. Her dirty blonde hair hung loose around her shoulders, a pair of clear-rimmed glasses sat proudly on the bridge of her nose, and her voice was loud, direct, and eager to fill in any dead space I tried to leave empty.

"I did not say that. Don't listen to her, Underdog. She always tries to pit my friends against me." TJ's voice carried over from the stove, where he was busy cooking the two of us scrambled eggs at his own insistence. I had been fine with cereal or something pre-made, but he had been very confident that his cooking would taste better than the health food options his Mom had stocked in the pantry.

"Mmm, I beg to differ, big brother. It's not my fault your friends are almost as dense as you. Don't tell me you can't even remember a week and a half ago? The commercial for Museum of Natural Sciences? I think you said, and I quote," she turned to face me, a big smirk on her face, "'Cyrus is a huge dork for dinosaurs and shit. I should—'"

"Okay! Shut up! Fine, whatever, maybe I did," the other boy shouted, still facing away from us as he finished off the eggs. I saw him take a second before half-turning to face us, his cheeks colored bright red from standing over the hot pan. "But don't let her shrill, piercing voice confuse you; I only called you a dork in, like... the cool way. Y'know, it's like..."

"It's okay, TJ," I chuckled. "I've been called a dork so much, it stopped phasing me like three-and-a-half years ago. Even and Buffy and Andi call me a dork, like, once a week. It's pretty hard to avoid when you still wear dinosaur pajamas to bed more often than not."

"Oh my gosh, you have dinosaur pajamas?" TJ's sister smiled wide. "That's so cute! When TJ was ten, our uncle bought him a t-shirt with a velociraptor dunking a basketball; he wore it to bed like every night, I swear."

"What? I didn't—wait, how the... hell do you even remember that? I threw that shirt out years ago!"

"What's the point of a photographic memory if I can't use it to recall the things you want me to forget." Sally put on a sickeningly sweet voice as she offered her brother a big, innocent smile.

"Photographic memory? Yeah right; clearly swimming in all that chlorine has fried more than just your hair, turd-for-brains. You've lost your glasses so many times, the sales-people at LensCrafters know you by name." There was a clatter as TJ dropped the dirty pan in the sink and grabbed our plates.

"Maybe it's just for the important things, then," Sally mused. "See how long it takes me to forget your face this morning."

I found myself suddenly very preoccupied with the plate of eggs and toast that TJ set down in front of me, desperate not to look up and make my blush more obvious than it probably was. You see, after waking up next to a sleeping TJ that morning, I had, um... let myself enjoy the view for a few minutes. A couple minutes. Definitely not more than, like, fifteen minutes. It was, I admit, a fairly nice way to wake up—once I got over the initial freak out of opening my eyes to see TJ's face only inches away—and I hadn't seen any reason to hasten its end. It's not like waking up next to my crush was something I'd be lucky enough to repeat any time soon. Especially since TJ's reaction to my coming out had been pretty much proof positive that he was... straight. Yup, might as well enjoy what I could get while it lasted.

TJ had a remarkably peaceful countenance while he slept. His unstyled hair was sticking out in every possible direction, mussed up even further by the pillow every time he shifted. His face was relaxed, like all the stress and fighting and social pressures didn't exist in his dreams. And when he wasn't busy snoring I swear he had a faint smile on his lips.

He was absolutely beautiful.

Oh god, I hope that's not as creepy as it now sounds in my head.

Unfortunately, just because it felt like time had stopped as I let myself relax after our stressful night, didn't mean it had actually paused for the rest of the world.

More unfortunately, TJ's mom had sent Sally up to wake us up after the younger girl returned from her own sleepover.

Most unfortunately, my peaceful morning had been absolutely shattered by Sally Kippen's voice yelling good morning as she flung TJ's door open, not even pausing to knock.

TJ's eyes had shot open the second his sister's voice hit his ears, like an alarm he had trained himself to never ignore. And sure, Sally had frozen and then quickly turned to leave with wide eyes—and an even wider smile—as soon as both of us popped our heads up above the fluffy comforter, but there's no telling what she thought she saw!

Which was nothing!

Thinking about the whole thing just made my stomach start pulling itself into knots. And if the awkward silence that had filled the room as TJ and I got ready was anything to go by, I definitely didn't need to look up to see how he was reacting. I knew the other boy was just as uncomfortable as me.

Long story short, this was absolutely not a new line of questioning I could let start.

"So yes! Dinosaurs!" My voice cracked a bit as I tried to get out in front of any potential questions about our sleeping arrangements. "I am a humongous dork for dinosaurs! I love dinosaurs! Why do you ask?"

"Well," Sally said, still smirking while chomping on a bite of granola, "like I said, we saw a commercial for the Natural History Museum last week. Looks like they have lots of really cool exhibits opening up next weekend. Normally TJ's friends aren't the type to enjoy that stuff. Y'know... too educational. But you look like the kind of guy who would fit right in at the Museum."

"Oh yeah!" I exclaimed, too relieved that we had moved on to question what it meant to look like I'd enjoy a museum. "I haven't been to the Shadyside National History Museum since our fifth-grade field trip! That sounds like it would be awesome!"

"You hear that Toe Jam? Cyrus thinks it would be awesome to go to the Museum. Maybe you guys should... make some plans? For next weekend? Toge—"

"Maybe you should shut the hell up and go eat breakfast in your room. Or maybe you'd prefer I lock you outside and we can wait for Mom to realize you're missing?" TJ's eggs sat mostly untouched as he glared at his sister across the table. Which is a shame, because they were surprisingly good eggs. Not rubbery, just enough salt, and I think he even put chives in there? My stepdad could learn a thing or two from this teenage jock. Who knew?

Hidden depth...

"Oh, I would, but I still have about thirty questions I need to ask Cyrus first," Sally put on an innocent smile and took another bite of granola. "I'm not used to your friends being able to speak in complete sentences, so I need to take this opportunity while I can. It's truly invaluable research."

"I don't think there's enough interesting things about me to answer thirty more questions," I joked, hoping to defuse some of the tension between the siblings. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see TJ trying to figure out how to respond. He seemed to be alternating between frustration and embarrassment, and it was sort of entertaining to watch. Also, seeing how uncomfortable TJ was made me feel a little more sure of myself. Clearly, his sister was being extra weird around me, probably just to get on his nerves, which was good. If I needed to expect a barrage of questions every time I came over, I might tend towards inviting TJ to my house instead.

"Ooh, and self-deprecating humor. You really did pull a complete one-eighty from Reed and his gang of dumbasses didn't you?"

"Holy... crap. Your voice is like nails on a freaking chalkboard. Have you ever tried to just not talk? Could we try that for five freaking seconds? Or is that too much for your baby insect brain to handle?" TJ punctuated his speech by spearing the air with his fork.

Is this what it's like to have a sibling? When I was a kid, before my parents split up, I had repeatedly asked for a little baby brother or baby sister—someone to always be my friend—until my Mom had sat me down and explained in no uncertain terms that it wasn't going to happen. I thought I had developed an understanding of sibling bickering, but it was a completely different phenomenon to see in person. It was like TJ was about to rip Sally's throat out with his teeth, and yet... I got the distinct feeling that, as soon as this argument passed, life would go on as if nothing had happened.

Approximately five seconds of silence passed with TJ glaring at his sister and the younger girl staring right back at him across the table.

"So, Cyrus, what's it like to be friends with someone who only started showering regularly about six months ago?" Sally asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Shut the... shut up! Don't answer that, Underdog," TJ pointed at me with his fork before turning to face his sister. "This coming from a girl who didn't know she had to wash her bras for the first six months. Yeah, that's right, I heard Mom when she pulled you aside this summer." A look of triumph settled on TJ's face as he took the first big bite of his breakfast

"You're playing a dangerous game, bro," Sally's smile turned from overly-friendly to devilish in the blink of an eye, and out of the corner of my eye I saw TJ hesitate with his fork halfway to his mouth. 

I sat there, quietly enjoying my breakfast as the two of them stared at each other for much longer than I expected. I observed as they waged a silent war of facial expressions, one that clearly expressed a full conversation that I wasn’t supposed to understand. A conversation that ended almost a minute later when Sally rolled her eyes and settled back into her chair with a sigh. As much as my curiosity was piqued by the whole wordless exchange, I knew that TJ wouldn't have left me out without a good reason. So I kept my questions to myself. For the moment.

"Fine. You dorks," she put extra relish on that word, "are no fun. Whatever. I need to go call my boyfriend anyway," Sally's voice was airy as she put on a lovesick tone.

"Yeah right. Like any boys out there would wanna ask you out."

"Pssh, like I would ever wait on a boy. What is this, the fifties? No, you antiquated Tedious Jock. I asked him," Sally said, sticking out her tongue as she placed her bowl in the sink. 

"How romantic..." TJ rolled his eyes.

"Well someone in this family's gotta have balls," Sally's eyes shifted between me and TJ, her smirk changing into something unreadable. "And it certainly isn't you, is it."

"You are so dead." The chair squealed under TJ as he pushed himself back enough to stand and grabbed his fork threateningly. Before he could even take a step, Sally was halfway across the room, smiling at us over her shoulder. As I watched TJ hurl his fork towards Sally's retreating form, I tried to convince myself that this was all normal. Probably normal. A normal sibling interaction that I should try to view as an entertaining spat. After all, Sally definitely did.

"Nice to meet you, Cyrus." The blonde girl giggled as the fork clattered at her feet and she disappeared around the corner.

I watched, still trying to decide whether I should be worried, as TJ glared at the empty doorway for a few seconds longer. Just as I made up my mind to check and see if he was okay, the other boy rolled his eyes and trudged across the room to pick up his fork.

"You are so freaking lucky you're an only child, Underdog. Holy crap, I did not think she was gonna be that bad."

"It's okay... I think. I can handle a few questions. Is she always so nosy with your friends?" I cleared my plate and fell back against my chair, enjoying the relative quiet of the Sally-less room. TJ's mom had run off to a yoga class after dropping his sister back home, so we officially had the ground floor to ourselves.

"Nah, you're special," TJ muttered, taking a big bite of eggs.

"Huh?"

"Uh, I mean—that was, um, especially annoying. Cause, y'know, usually my friends, uh, they stop responding to her pretty fast. You're the first one who's too nice to tell her to go to hell." TJ's voice became muffled as he started shoveling breakfast into his mouth, apparently completely focused on finishing before it got cold. 

"Oh. I guess that makes sense." As TJ handed me his now empty plate, I felt my phone go off in my pocket.

"So, um... what time is your Mom picking you up?"

"Uh..." I pulled my phone out to check the time and saw that I had messages from Buffy, "in like four hours. She said two-thirty and she's usually exactly on time."

"Dang. I guess that means we can't put it off anymore, then?" TJ wrinkled his nose and grimaced.

"Huh? Oh, right! Homework! Yeah, crap," I wrinkled my own nose, feeling our shared revulsion at the idea of actually doing work. "If I'm not at least mostly finished by the time my mom gets here, we can say goodbye to any future sleepovers."

"So does that mean last night didn't already scare you off from future nights at the Kippen house?" TJ smiled at me as he stood from the table.

"We'll see," I shrugged, smiling back in a questionably successful attempt at being coy. "Ask me in a few weeks and I'll let ya know."

"I'll hold you to that."

"That's what I'm hoping."

A moment of silence passed with TJ and I staring at each other across the kitchen counter. Besides his smile, there was a look in TJ's eyes that I usually only saw when someone—usually Buffy—demanded a one-on-one game of basketball.

It was his 'challenge accepted' look.

I didn't know how to respond to that.

Finally, enough time passed for Buffy to send another message, the buzzing knocking us both out of our moment of silence and back into the real world.

"I'll go get our books if you wanna clean the dishes?" TJ asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, uh, no problem," I nodded. I didn't mind doing dishes, but I was truthfully more distracted by the pending messages from Buffy. As soon as TJ turned to head back to his room, I opened up my phone and pulled them up.

'Why do I have a missed call from Andi? And why am I sure that you're involved even though you should've been struggling to survive a house full of Kippens last night, so that can't possibly be true.'

I smiled, content with the knowledge the Andi had followed through. It was a start, hopefully, which was the best I could ask for at the moment.

'And seriously, you didn't text me once last night?' the next message continued. 'I was relying on sleepover disaster stories from you for my Saturday night entertainment, and you give me nothing!'

I sighed and rolled my eyes, letting my fingers fly across the screen as I typed out my reply.

'Last night was crazy. I'll tell you everything later. FT after dinner?'

'Okay, but it better be good. I'm bored out of my mind. Walker's been busy all weekend. But seriously, do you know why Andi called me?'

'I do. You were right, it's because of me but I'll tell you later.'

I watched as the typing bubble popped up and disappeared a few times, taking longer to respond than the previous messages.

'Well, I'm not calling her back. If she wants to talk she can come talk to me in person. You can tell her that.'

'I'm not telling her anything. You two can figure it out yourselves.' I set the phone down on the counter, but almost immediately grabbed it to add a follow-up message. 'I'm staying out of it.'

'You? Staying out of it?? Man, last night must have been crazier than I thought.'

I rolled my eyes again, trying to figure out how to respond when I heard TJ's footsteps coming down the stairs. I looked over at the sink and realized I had yet to make any progress on my part of the deal. The egg-covered pan and dirty plates sat completely untouched.

Whoops.

'I'll explain everything later. Gotta go!' I shoved my phone in my pocket and hurriedly got to work cleaning the dishes. As I tried to make it look like I'd been at least started my assigned task, TJ stumbled into the room, backpack on one shoulder and my 'necessities' bag on the other.

"Alright, new rule," TJ dropped the two bags onto the floor with a heavy thud, wincing as the backpack strap caught on his injured finger. With a grunt of effort, he used his feet to push the oversized bags up against the chairs. "Next time we have a sleepover at my house, I get to help you pack first. You ever heard of minimalism, Underdog?"

+++++++++++++++++++++++

"So you came out to him."

"Yup," I tossed a baby tater into my mouth, savoring the golden-brown treat as I tried to let go of the Monday afternoon stress that school had already dumped on my shoulders.

"But he didn't come out in response?"

"Nope."

"Are you sure," Buffy reached over to grab a tater for herself, giving me a quizzical look. "Maybe he was just subtle about it. You can be pretty dense sometimes."

"Oh, thanks," I tried to act offended, but Buffy rolled her eyes. "You think I wasn't on the lookout for it? No one was hoping he'd come out to me more than I was, Buff. All he gave me was... stunned babbling for a bit, then an overly aggressive insistence on going to Andi's."

"Oh." Buffy frowned as I took a sip of my milkshake. "Are you... feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," I lied. "I mean, yeah, I might have gotten my hopes up that it was going to be like some... fairy tale, where I come out to him and he pulls me in for a kiss so passionate that I see fireworks, and—"

"Too much information!" Buffy tossed a baby tater over the table at me, hitting me dead center in the forehead. "I don't need to hear about any fantasies involving TJ Kippen."

"The point is," I grumbled, rubbing the grease off my forehead before I had to start worrying about a zit, "I'll be okay. Even if I hoped it would go down like we lived in a storybook, I didn't actually consider it a possibility," another lie. Man, I was just racking them up. And, more impressively, Buffy seemed to actually believe me! "No thanks to you, by the way. TJ's a good—if weird—friend, and I'm just going to have to learn to live with the fact that that's all he's going to be. Just like I did with Jonah."

I forced the most convincing smile I could muster on my face and then immediately shoved a handful of baby taters into my mouth.

"Hmm... I'm not convinced." Buffy's eyes were staring at the space above the edge of the table as she organized her thoughts.

"What do you mean, you're not convinced? He didn't come out to me, Buffy. That's pretty black and white," Even as I whispered, my voice rose in pitch. I knew what was coming. I knew that look on her face. And I wasn't excited. Buffy was about to try to convince me that it wasn't over. That I still had a chance with TJ. That I shouldn't close myself off just yet.

And, knowing Buffy... it would probably work. Even if I knew it would only cause me more pain.

"That doesn't mean he never will," Buffy said matter-of-factly. "Maybe he just wanted to let you have your moment."

"Then why did he act so stunned and freaked out right afterward? He's not exactly the best at hiding his emotions; if he had this secret crush on me that you seem to be so sure of, wouldn't he have been more... giddy?" My hands started waving through the air as I defended my conclusion. TJ was straight.

"Even I know TJ doesn't do 'giddy,'" Buffy dismissed, "but maybe he was just surprised? How has he been acting since you left his house?"

"Normal? I don't know."

"No weird texts or anything?"

Oh. You mean like the three 'good night' texts he sent Sunday night, followed by a 'good morning' text with picture on Monday morning, and a post-lunch text saying that he really liked my shirt? Do those count as weird?

"Nope, nothing noteworthy." I shrugged.

Buffy eyed me from across the table, and I immediately knew that I had reached today's limit of hiding things from her. Still, I refused to back down. I said what I said.

"Right... Now, tell me again. Why did he get so fired up about getting you over to Andi's?"

"Speaking of, did she talk to you today?" I asked, trying to change the subject. Why couldn't she just let me get over my crush in peace?

"After school, yeah. She asked me at my locker if we could talk, but I had to meet you here, so... yeah. We scheduled a meeting for Wednesday after school." Buffy's tone got... weird as she said the last sentence, like each word felt unnatural in her mouth.

"You 'scheduled a meeting?' What is this, an office job?"

"I don't know! Yes, we scheduled a meeting, okay? Now, stop trying to change the subject! Why was he so upset?" I pouted as Buffy called me out. So close to being done with the TJ talk.

"I don't see why it matters. He was being stupid about it anyway, even he admits that."

"Yes, he's always being stupid. Just answer the question," Buffy rolled her eyes, impatient.

"I will if you promise to stop calling him stupid. At least when he's not around to argue with you about it." I crossed my arms over my chest. Buffy gave me an incredulous look from the other side of the table, but if I was going to call TJ out for ragging on Buffy then it was only fair that I do the same to her.

"Fine, whatever, no more 'stupid.' I promise. Now answer the dang question, Cy." Buffy huffed.

"He said it was because..." I sighed, already seeing where her question was going. "He got really upset at the thought of Andi outing me."

"Uhuh," I saw the girl across from me let a faint smirk grace her lips.

"But you got pretty upset at that too, y'know. Because you're a good friend. It's definitely something that a good friend could get personally mad about. No other explanation necessary. So, unless you have something to tell me..."

"I don't... You know I'd have told you months ago if I did," my athletic friend gave me a quizzical look and I shrugged in response. Hey, I was just proving my point.

"I'm just saying. There's just no proof. We've gotta face the facts, Buffy. You were wrong about this one." I watched Buffy wrinkle her nose at the mention of her being wrong. She obviously wasn't done yet. "C'mon, shouldn't you be happy about this? I'm sure you don't actually want me to date the guy. At best, you two have a friendly antagonism thing going on. At worst you can barely be in the same room as him."

"I don't, you're right. He doesn't deserve you, Cy," Buffy wrinkled her nose even more. "But what I do want is for you to be happy. And... who knows why, but for some reason, that blond jerk seems to actually make you happy more often than not. But... it's weird to say this, but that's not all. Because, let's face it, you're not exactly a difficult guy to make happy."

"Hey! I resent that!"

"Oh hush, we both know I'm right. What I'm trying to say is that it seems like TJ's doing it all... on purpose. Like, it's not just who he is—mostly because who he is is garbage—"

"Buffy!"

"Right! Sorry! That was the last one, I swear. What I mean is... when he's not royally screwing things up, his active choices always seem to point to one goal... making you happier."

"You... you really think that?" I asked, my voice coming out softer than I intended.

"Yeah. I do. Like I said, it's weird, Cy. But I'm not trying to push you together because I think it'll be cute," my best friend stuck her tongue out, feigning disgust. "I'm doing it because I see him making these choices, even the ones he screws up, and he's so completely different from when I first met him. And the only explanation I can come up with is if he likes you... just as much as you like him."

"It just sounds so... unbelievable. Especially when you put it like that."

"It's the only way I can make sense of it in my head, Cy. Are you sure there's nothing else that happened this weekend? Anything you... forgot about?" Buffy asked in a leading tone, clearly trying to pull out information she knew I was hiding.

I felt my cheeks start to grow warm as I recalled every moment of our night in what felt like perfect detail. The movie. Coming out. Our fight. His injured fingers. The look on his face when I told him I wasn't going to walk away from him.

The hug.

I experienced it all over again, those feelings of warmth, and comfort, and safety that had washed over me when TJ pulled me against his chest. I wanted to spill every detail to my best friend. I wanted her to roll her eyes when I admitted that I'd been comfortable enough to fall asleep in his arms. I wanted her to groan when I bragged that, instead of waking me, he had just laid down with me once I'd passed out and given me the best possible view to wake up to.

"No," I squeaked, shaking my head as I stared at the basket of baby taters.

"Well then," I could hear the doubt in Buffy's voice, but I refused to meet her eyes, "that's too bad."

"Yup," I coughed. "Too bad."

"Well, I guess that means, come Saturday night, I'll be buying you all the milkshakes you can drink."

"Hmm?"

"The bet? One week, remember?"

"Oh right!" I smiled weakly. It was a paltry consolation prize, but it would have to do. "Hope you saved up your allowance." 

As Buffy rolled her eyes and moved on to talking about the girls' basketball team, I settled back into my seat and glanced down at my phone to see another message from TJ waiting for me. Crap. With a big sigh, I resigned myself to the feelings of hope, and dread, and—when I thought about our hug—warmth and happiness that started to bubble up through my chest. Because—dang it!—even keeping pertinent facts from Buffy hadn't kept her from achieving her goal.

Maybe I was an idiot.

But I believed I had a chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's absolutely CRAZY to think that there's only one more chapter of Please, See Me. It hasn't even been three months yet, but this novel-length fic feels like it's come together so quickly. My goal before publishing the last chapter is to do some whole-story editing, really get everything into as good a shape as I can get it for when the final chapters come out. So it might take a bit longer than usual. I don't know. We shall see! Thanks for all the love and support!


	20. A Thing We Just... Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is a basketball game if not the perfect arena for drama?

"You want me to get you baby taters? Right before a game? TJ, are you sure that's a good idea? I can totally stop by the store and get you a protein bar or something if you want."

The other students of Jefferson were much too smart to be standing outside under the cloud-gray sky in sub-freezing temperatures, so the side of the school was deserted other than TJ and myself as we chatted. The last bell had rung a few minutes ago, and TJ was keeping me company in the deserted courtyard as I waited for Buffy—though, to be honest, he was probably just putting off starting his homework. Whatever his reasoning, I'm not one to begrudge some alone time with my crush. Even if that meant that—unfortunately—no one else was around to see as the jock fell to his knees and grabbed the hem of my hoodie with an adorable pout on his face.

"Underdog. Please. I'm begging you! I need food. I woke up too late for breakfast and I had to skip lunch to go over the test answers with Mr. Coleman. I'm dying here! I need real food!"

"Still..." I fought off a smile as I watched TJ put on as pathetic an act as I'd ever seen from him, "shouldn't I get you, like, a salad or something?" A giggle fought its way out of me as the other boy physically recoiled at the mention of a plate of vegetables. "Look, pretty much the only thing I know about sports is what snacks you should—or shouldn't—be eating before you play. I don't want you puking deep fried potatoes all over the court! The taters don’t deserve that."

"Please, Underdog, I promise I'll be fine. The game's not 'til five. If you hurry and get them now, everything'll be all digested before the tip-off, no problem." The cold had brought a permanent blush to TJ's cheeks, and combined with the sad puppy-dog eyes he was giving me, it was difficult to say no.

Unfortunately for him, it was also just way too cute for me to ruin things by saying yes. Instead, I shrugged and made like I was about to walk away.

"C'mon, I'll pay you back! You know I'm good for it. I'll pay you back double. I'll..." the blonde tugged me back by the hem of what used to be his hoodie, "I'll take you to dinner!"

"Wha—you, uh...?" I blurted out, eyes going wide.

I wish I could say that was the first thing TJ had said since our sleepover that made me falter and make a fool of myself. But it wasn't.

It definitely wasn't.

Too many times to count, TJ had said something in passing that made me stop—made my mind feel fuzzy like maybe I was dreaming.

Muffin crumbs on my chin? "That's adorable, Underdog."

Wednesday, when everything I wore was bright baby-duck yellow? "Cute."

And once we finally got back making plans to go to the Natural History Museum? "It's a date!"

And here's the rub. Because, if I truly believed that Buffy was right, and TJ really harbor romantic feelings for me, then I knew what all of those meant. He was flirting with me. He was attracted to me. He wanted to go on a date. With me.

Which is ridiculous.

‘Cause yeah, maybe I believed that TJ could like me in, like... an abstract sense. It was within the realm of possiblity. But I had to face the reality of that possibility every time he slipped up like that and it... It always ended up feeling impossible.

And it didn't help that he always self-corrected by saying the exact wrong thing immediately after.

"Huh? Uh, yeah! The, uh, the whole team's going to The Spoon after we beat Quentin. Victory celebration! I'll, um... I'll pay for your dinner." The flustered sounding boy looked off to the side as he let go of my sweatshirt and pushed himself off his knees.

"Oh, um, yeah. That sounds... that sounds great..." That wasn't the kind of dinner I was hoping for. The worst part of letting Buffy get my hopes up was that I was eventually going to have to deal with all this disappointment when—if?—it all came crashing down on top of me. I did my best to hide the lack of enthusiasm in my voice, but I know it shined through. It was obvious from the worried look that flashed across TJ's face as he glanced back at me.

"I mean, unless—"

"Hey, Cy! You coming?"

I spun around, just in time to push down the anxiety climbing in my throat and wave at Buffy as the doors to the school closed behind her. A second later, the doors burst open again and Andi emerged, pulling on a thick blue winter jacket that put the hoodies TJ and I were wearing to shame. I hated to admit it, but it was at the point where a single sweatshirt—no matter how warm and comfortable and sentimentally valuable—was not enough to keep out the winter chill.

"Yeah! One second!" I turned back to the jock, who had regressed to giving me a pleading look, pout and all.

"Fine," I rolled my eyes, trying not to smile as TJ celebrated his small victory. "I'll get you the taters. But I can't promise how fast I'll be. Buffy and Andi are notoriously slow at choosing what to order when they're together."

"So I take that to mean the Good Hair Crew is finally put back together?" The jock slapped my shoulder, almost knocking me off balance. Man, I really need to work on my stability. "See what happens when you force the issue?"

"We're getting there, I think." I checked over my shoulder again, observing as Andi and Buffy stood quietly next to each other on the sidewalk. "Slowly, but yeah. We're getting there."

"Well, that's awesome. You should be proud, Underdog. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. I already said I'd get you your snack, stop trying to butter me up," I smirked, bumping my shoulder into his.

"Cyrus! Come on! Don't make us leave you behind!" Buffy's voice carried powerfully through the icy air, making me flinch slightly at her impatient tone.

"Well, better not keep them waiting. I'll be back with your food before you know it!"

"You're the best!" TJ beamed, tugging me into a quick hug before pushing me towards the girls.

Oh yeah. That's the other thing.

Hugs are apparently a thing we just... do, now.

A thing which almost always resulted in Buffy giving me the same knowing, self-satisfied look she wore on her face as I shuffled sheepishly over to her and Andi. I mean, look, I get it. I know exactly what she's trying to say every time she puts on that smirk and rolls her eyes. She thinks I'm ridiculous for thinking TJ could possibly not like me. It's the same look she gives me whenever he sits next to me, or leans against my locker waiting for me. But! I can totally think up a situation in which TJ decided to turn hugging into an every day—sometimes multiple times a day—thing so that he could, y'know, defuse any possible weirdness that came from me falling asleep while hugging him. Normalize the whole thing. Turn it into just a thing that happened. So he...

Okay, y'know what? Even I admit; that one's a stretch.

It's just tough, okay? I'm not an idiot, I see everything that Buffy has so eagerly pointed out. I could add it all together. I mentally shifted TJ from the 'probably not gay' category to the 'probably not straight' category—a category mostly reserved for a select group of very attractive, suspiciously single pop stars—but it doesn't matter. It still feels impossible. Denial is the safest option. No matter what clues I see, and no matter how many hugs I get, it's always going to feel like this unbelievable dream.

Because I'm Cyrus Goodman, the kid who's barely a main character in his own life, and he's TJ Kippen, the basketball star who could either charm or intimidate 80% of the school into dating him. And yeah, I know I can be charming in my own personal... awkward and dorky way. But still. It just doesn't feel realistic.

So I'm just going to enjoy the hugs and... yeah.

"What were you two knuckleheads talking about?" Buffy asked, looking past me and as I approached the two of them.

"He was giving me his order for The Spoon. Apparently, he hasn't eaten all day. If you guys don't mind, we're gonna have to get back here as quickly as possible with some baby taters."

"What! Ugh! That's—" Buffy sighed in frustration and rubbed at her eyes before pulling her bag around her side and digging through the front pocket. "Yo! Kippen!" I whipped my head around just in time to see TJ freeze mid-stride before slowly turning back to face us.

"Buffy, what are you—" Before I could see what was happening, a brightly colored rectangle flew past my head and across the courtyard, hitting TJ in the shoulder with a thud and a crinkling sound.

"What the hell?" TJ fumbled the object with his injured hand a few times before finally catching it with a look of pure confusion on his face.

"Eat a dang protein bar and stop whining!" Buffy yelled, right next to my ear. "I need you to kick Quentin's butts so that their girls' team knows to fear us. That means no vomiting up fried food in the middle of the game!"

"I'm fricking starving, Driscoll! I'm gonna die out there if I don't get some real food! Underdog, don't listen to her! Bring me—" a second rectangle flew through the air, this one hitting TJ square in the face with a thud.

Buffy's aim has always been impeccable.

"Then eat two protein bars and shut the hell up!" With a huff, Buffy spun around and wasted no time taking off in the direction of The Spoon, leaving Andi and me to fall into place behind her. I offered a quick apologetic smile over my shoulder, but the look of astonishment and confusion on the jock's face meant anything more would have sent me into a giggling fit.

"I'm trying to decide if that was you being nice, or you being mean," I mused, once we had walked a block in relative silence.

"I don't see why it can't be both," Buffy explained, glancing over he shoulder. "That boy needed someone to keep him from making a stupid mistake and ruining his chances tonight. He just... also needed to have something thrown at his head. It was win-win."

"This is only going to get worse, the more time TJ spends with us, isn't it?" I sighed, glancing over at Andi. The dark haired girl appeared to be deep in thought as we pushed through the cold winds towards our favorite diner.

"Depends who you ask. I happen to think it can only get better. By which I mean that it can only get more entertaining." I could hear the laughter hidden beneath Buffy's voice. A thought crossed my mind, wondering if the two of them would ever settle into a more normal friendship, one without all the antagonism.

Honestly, I'm not entirely sure I'd be able to handle that.

"Yes, yes. You've made it very clear all week that you find this all very—"

"Cyrus, do you like TJ?" Andi's voice broke through our banter like wrecking ball. I actually tripped on the sidewalk, I was so caught off guard by her question. Or maybe I just tripped.

"Jeez, Mack, did you somehow forget all your tact in the last month, too?" Buffy spun around as I collected myself, an amused look on her face.

"What? I've been meaning to ask ever since Cyrus showed up at my apartment with TJ in tow. I never really thought about it until you made a point of saying you 'liked' Jonah, as in past tense, but... well it makes sense, right? Why? Is it... too early to ask stuff like that?"

Andi's eyes shuffled between Buffy and me as her voice grew weaker. For just a second, it had felt like everything was back to normal—Andi asking something a bit too personal, Buffy making a snarky comment, me being a little flustered... But were we there yet? Andi's nervous eyes were asking the same question that was forefront in my mind.

"I don't know. Buffy? Is it too early for her to ask me that?" I passed the question off to our athletic friend, not exactly comfortable with answering it myself. Buffy looked confused for a second before seeming to understand what my real question was: Were her and Andi... good? Good enough? I wasn't around when the two of them had talked the previous day. I don't know what was said, or what was decided, or how much the friendship had been repaired. Buffy had staunchly refused to give me any details when we were face-timing later that night, no matter how much I begged. She threw my, 'I'm staying out of it' text back at me more than a few times. All I knew was that when Buffy met me at my locker that morning, Andi had been trailing behind her—a little timid, but there—and I just... rolled with it. It felt too good, having the whole gang back together again, for me to question anything. We hadn't really talked about it in the meantime.

"Huh? Oh..." Buffy turned slightly to fully face the pixie-haired girl standing beside me. Resting her hands on her hips, she acted like she was performing a mental evaluation of Andi on the spot. "Well, that's the kind of thing you would only tell your best friend, so..."

I watched as Andi deflated a little under the pressure of Buffy's exacting gaze. Once again, I felt thankful that it wasn't my turn to be on Buffy's bad side. It was a punishing experience. I could see Andi mentally preparing to apologize and take back her question, an aura of shame cloaked her as she prepared herself to hear Buffy describe just how much work she had left to do.

"Sorry, guys, I—"

"So, yeah. Go crazy, Cy. I don't know why you wouldn't tell our best friend," Buffy quickly spun around and started walking again, though not before I caught a glimpse of the grin she was trying to hide.

But that was nothing compared to the ridiculously huge smile spreading across Andi's face as I threw an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. "Short answer is yes," I admitted through my own uncontrollable grin. A flash of joy shot across my friend's face, and for just a second I was flung back to my Bash Mitzvah when I first admitted my feelings for Jonah. But I quickly shook that off, and I was back on the sidewalk with Andi Mack looking at me with so much love and relief in her smile that I couldn't stay quiet. It was going to be different this time. "Long answer, well... how much time you got?"

+++++++++++++++++++++

"Crap crap crap crap crap!" Turns out I really like talking about TJ, and my feelings for him, which—given you've been listening to me do just that for quite some time now—probably doesn't come as much of a surprise. Unfortunately, Andi had lots of questions—particularly about whether I had developed a 'type,' or if it was just a coincidence that Jonah and TJ filled similar roles—and I had a lot to say. As a result, I only had five minutes to grab the sign from my locker and get to the gym before I was officially late for the game. And that was after I had already sprinted all the way to school from The Spoon. Well, run.

Well... jogged aggressively.

TJ had surely noticed that I was missing during his pre-game warmup—I mean, it's pretty hard to ignore me, I'm the only person who cheers when someone pulls off a particularly impressive stretch—but he wouldn't be too upset. Probably. Hopefully, he had taken Buffy's advice and didn't wait for my food delivery, because it was definitely too late for the box of cold baby taters I reluctantly shoved in my locker. I just needed to grab my sign and get to the gym and hope my absence hadn't somehow ruined TJ's game preparations.

I mean, it's not like he could really be that sad I'd missed him getting ready, right?

Especially once he saw my sign. On one side it said, '34! Gives us more!' and on the other side was, '34 rules the floor!'

Nice, right?

Well, I thought it was clever.

"Hey! Muffin guy!" A semi-familiar voice echoed down the mostly deserted hallway, knocking me out of my appreciation for my own rhyming skills. Confused, I spun around and tried to recall who the voice belonged to. Muffin guy? I doubt they were referring to anyone else, but who do I know that calls me muffin guy?

"I was wondering if I'd see you tonight!" My eyes zeroed in on an imposing figure heading towards me. Floppy blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and a black basketball jersey with white trim and a big white 'Q' on the chest.

"Oh, hey... Reed, right?" With zero hesitation, the taller boy dramatically fell against the locker beside me, flashing a toothy smile and blowing a lock of hair from his eyes.

"The one and only. Good to see ya again, Muffin guy—hmm, nah. Muffin man? Yeah, that works." I regarded the other boy with confusion as he decided on a nickname. "So, whatcha got there?" He asked, nodding towards the rolled up poster in my hand.

"Oh, just a sign for TJ," I explained, taking off the rubber band and showing off my work. "It's sort of a tradition that I do for all my althetic friends. Which is pretty much all of them."

"That's sick," Reed reached over and grabbed a corner of the poster, flipping it up to see the other side. "Tyronius Jeremiah's a pretty lucky guy, huh? I wouldn't mind having fans cheering me on with such cute, uh... signs," the blond flashed me a smirk and let go my handiwork, taking a step closer as I rolled it back up. "How do I qualify for one of those things?"

The blond's face was surprisingly close when looked back up, that playful smile still dancing on his lips. For some reason—I really couldn't put my finger on what, exactly—it made my stomach start doing somersaults. I think it was his eyes. He was staring at me with that same intense focus I had felt when we'd met at the park that weekend. Like somehow he wasn't so much looking at me as he was making a plan for me. It made me feel... off center.

But also that's stupid because it was just a guy smiling at me with bright blue eyes. Nothing particularly weird about that, Jonah does it all the time.

"Huh?" I shook my head, trying to dissipate the weird thoughts filling my mind. There was no reason I couldn't have a quick conversation with TJ's friend before the game. I didn't need to work so hard to read into it. I just needed to stop overthinking everything.

Who knows, maybe that would even be the secret to figuring out this whole TJ thing. No more overthinking.

"What strings do I have to pull to get a sign like that? I'm number seven," He pointed to the big white seven on his stomach. "You can make a rhyme with 'heaven,' or something. I dunno, I'm sure you could come up with something better than I could. You seem like a pretty... clever guy."

"Oh, um, right. Well, you're sort of going up against my school tonight, so... I don't think that would go over too well with my peers." I definitely knew it wouldn't go over well with TJ. I had no real desire to test out how well his 'self-control instead of jealousy' thing would hold in that situation. "Plus, I definitely don't have enough time. Or materials. Sorry." With a shrug, I spun around and started towards the gym. I really couldn't afford to dawdle any longer, or there was a real chance I'd miss the tip-off.

Though, shouldn't Reed have been in a hurry too?

"Damn. Maybe next time, then?" The other boy asked, casually strolling alongside me, apparently unbothered by the thought of missing the start of the game.

"Well if I ever end up watching one of your games where you're not facing Jefferson, I don't see why not," I offered, figuring that was safe. Once again, it felt like we had entered a weird situation—like it was a weird request—but I couldn't exactly put my finger on why. Anyway, I couldn't see any way the situation I'd described would come up, so it was pretty much a non-issue. It's not like I traveled the city watching intermural basketball games.

"Aw hell yeah, you'd really be my own personal cheerleader? That'd be sweet! No wonder Tim Jim likes you so much." The other boy clapped me on th shoulder as a wide smile grew on his face. "Here, give me your phone, I'll give you my number." Stopping before the doors of the gym, Reed held out his hand expectantly. Confused, but not seeing a good enough reason to refuse, I dug my device out of my pocket and unlocked it. In a flash, the other boy grabbed it from me and started typing away, looking up momentarily to flash me another grin. "Alright... there. I just sent myself a text."

Sure enough, I heard a tone go off from Reed's pocket. Well, that's cool, I guess. New friends are always good. I mean, he's TJ's friend, right? So I was probably going to end up with his number eventually.

"I'll send you my game schedule later," the blond explained, pushing the gym doors open and stepping inside while still holding onto my phone. "Maybe you can make it to one."

"Yeah, um... that sounds great, Reed..." Once again, the other boy was staring me down with that super intense look in his eyes. As we walked together into the gym, I felt stuck. I didn't know how to I was supposed to continue the conversation from there. I just wanted to get my phone back so I could...

"Oh, right, here. Sorry, got a bit... distracted," Reed winked—who winks?—and held out my device, still opened to the messaging app. I saw that he had given himself a contact name already: Reed ;). "Enjoy the game, Muffin guy. You got plans for afterward?" The other boy surprised me by reaching up and squeezing my shoulder once before finally taking a step back.

"Uh... I think I'm doing something with TJ," I responded, taking a quick look around to try to find my crush. Oh, there he was, staring right at the two of us.

"Oh cool, well—"

"Actually, you know what, I think I see my friends!" I lied, pointing in the general direction of the bleachers opposite the Quentin team's bench. Andi and Buffy were nowhere to be seen, which wasn't a surprise as they hadn't even finished their food when I left The Spoon. They'd be at least another fifteen minutes, but Reed didn't know that. Without waiting for a response, I spun on my heel and started walking towards away from the other boy. "See ya! Good luck!"

"See ya around, Muffin man!"

Usually, I'm not one for forcing an exit, but... Something about that kid just makes me feel like he's never going to let me go of his own accord. I know TJ said he was weird, but... maybe I'm not being fair. It's not like I could really point to any specific thing he did. Just his whole... vibe. It felt like he knew something I didn't and was happy about that. Without acknowledging Reed's goodbye, I climbed the bleachers and fell into a seat next to a few other kids from my grade who I rarely spoke to. Safely away from those intense eyes, I gave myself a second to recollect and calm down before unrolling my sign and scanning the court for my favorite player.

He had moved slightly to be standing beneath one of the baskets, mindlessly bouncing a ball with his injured hand. Except he wasn't looking anywhere on the court. TJ's eyes were trained straight ahead, staring—no, more like glaring—right at Quentin's bench. Or to be completely accurate, he was directing his glare squarely Reed, tracing the other boy's pacing with his eyes and completely ignoring everything else going on around him.

I guess that rivalry against Reed and Quentin must've been even stronger than I thought.

Eventually, TJ was jostled from his glare by Simms, who directed the blond back towards the basket before clapping his hands aggressively. I watched as the captain shook his head slowly a few times before dispassionately tossing a few more practice shots from a few feet away. Just under half of them went in, which, of course, I cheered for. The first time my voice rang out, TJ seemed to snap out of whatever funk was occupying his mind, whipping his head around searching the bleachers until his eyes landed on me. Immediately, his serious game face melted and gave way to a gentle smile. I felt the nerves that were still dancing in my stomach settle a little as I gave the jock a quick wave before letting him get back to his warm-ups.

It was the shots that bounced off the side of the rim, however, that really caught my attention. TJ didn't usually miss from that close, and each one was accompanied by the team captain gripping the bandaged fingers on his right hand and staring intensely and the offending digits. He'd been insisting all week that it was getting better, but... all evidence pointed to the contrary. I was about two days from walking him to a clinic myself if those fingers didn't stop looking so swollen and purple by the weekend. I know Bex had said things would be okay, but... clearly she's not a doctor.

Somehow, in my worry about TJ's injury, I missed the referee blowing his whistle, only snapping out of my thoughts when I noticed the teams gathering in the middle of the court.

It looked like the tip-off would be between TJ and Reed. How fitting.

Watching from the bleachers, I could tell the two of them were exchanging trash talk as they got up close and personal waiting for the ref, but I had no idea what was being said. All I knew was that TJ was putting off an energy that I hadn't seen since him and Buffy had made up. An angry energy. And it was being directed entirely at Reed. I felt like I was watching the preface to a fight, one that was teetering on the edge of breaking out. It was uncomfortable to see. The thought crossed my mind—only for a second—that I'd been a fool when I convinced myself that this scary-TJ was gone for good. Then, just before the ref approached center court, I watched TJ pause, stand up to his full height, and take a deep breath. Almost instantly, his shoulders relaxed, and the anger faded from his body. It was like a whole different kid settled into a crouch across the half-court line from Reed.

I sighed in relief, letting out a breath I hadn't even realized I was holding. That's the TJ I know and... really really like.

It felt like the whole gym fell quiet as we all waited for the game to officially begin. The place wasn't exactly packed—like TJ said, to most people, this was just a random mid-season game—but a notable silence settled over the bleachers as the ref brought the ball down between the two blond captains. Even I could tell there was more intensity in the air than there had been for any of Jefferson's other games that season.

As the ref took one last moment to ensure that both teams were ready, TJ took a second to look over his shoulder and find me in the bleachers one last time. We only held each other's stare for an instant, but that was plenty of time for me to understand what his smirk was trying to say.

'Ready to watch me win, Underdog?'

Before I could nod, the ref put the whistle up to his lips and TJ whipped his head back around, focusing on the game ahead of him. A moment of total silence passed as everyone paused what they were doing, even their breathing, to watch.

Then the whistle shrieked. The captains were jumping up, stretching towards the ball.

And the game was on.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Jefferson was winning! Like, we were really kicking Quentin's butt!

Andi and Buffy had shown up about five minutes into the game, and by that point, it had already become clear that Quentin was outmatched. I don't know exactly what kind of practice TJ had put his team through, but they were meshing together like clockwork. And at the head of it all was their beautiful, blond leader, directing every play with a practiced confidence.

The impressive thing was—as Buffy had to point out to me, as I'd never notice it myself—TJ even wasn't even our top scorer. Number twenty-three, Monroe was. TJ was doing something that, in all the games I had watched him play, I had never seen him do before: he was passing more often than he was shooting.

"Holy crap, has TJ Kippen actually learned to share?" Buffy elbowed me as the teams gathered up for their half-time huddles.

"As much as I'd like to say that's the case..." I pointed to edge the of Jefferson huddle, where TJ was studying his bandaged fingers instead of listening to whatever his coach was saying. "Most of the shots he took at the beginning of the game didn't go in..."

"Wow, Bex really did a number on him," Andi added from next to Buffy. "She's been closing all our doors extra slow ever since this weekend. It's like she thinks she's gonna accidentally kill someone."

"Well seriously, who closes a door hard enough to break a finger?" I exclaimed, moving my focus from my crush back to my friends.

"It's not like she did it on purpose!" Andi defended. "She just... always slams doors behind her, wherever she goes. Cece's been trying to break her of the habit for years."

"Well maybe this was just a necessary sacrifice to get her to stop," Buffy offered. "TJ's fingers for some peace and quiet seems like a fair trade to me."

"You're horrible, you know that? How would you feel if it was Walker who got hurt, huh?" My mind caught up with my mouth a moment too late to stop myself from bringing up Walker. Immediately, I faltered, unsure of what was about to happen as a tense moment of silence descended on our small group.

I felt like I'd just violated a taboo.

"Or, um... what if it was Jonah?" My voice pitched up as I hurriedly tried to move us past the 'W' word. "Or Amber? Or Marty? Anyone really! Point is—"

"It's okay, Cy," Andi leaned forward so that I could see her face around Buffy's hair. She had a sweet—if slightly sad—smile on her face as she shrugged. Beside me, I saw Buffy's shoulders relax, letting go of tension I hadn't even realized she'd been holding. "You guys can talk about Walker. I'll probably just... stay out of those conversations for a little while."

"Well what I was trying to say," I grinned out of relief, feeling my heart settle down and fill with a loving warmth, "is that she shouldn't be taking joy in anyone getting hurt. "Least of all the guy I..." my voice dropped to a whisper, "want to be my boyfriend." 

"Glad to finally hear you admit that. Well, let's see if playing while injured imbues him with any of the humility he's so sorely lacking, then we can reevaluate my feelings on the matter," Buffy shrugged, turning her attention back to the court as the teams started trickling back into place. "And for the record, Walker would have known to use his foot to stop the door."

"It's not about knowing, Buffy. He did it purely on instinct." I tried to follow her line of sight, landing on the Quentin coach, who was still animatedly addressing his players. Reed in particular.

"Well, his instincts suck. Though he did sacrifice himself to help you, so I guess that's a few points in his favor. Just hope it doesn't make us lose tonight's game, or I'll hold both of you responsible."

"That just doesn't seem fair," I rolled my eyes.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about, Cy," Andi piped up, reaching around Buffy to squeeze my shoulder. "Jefferson's so far ahead, it'd take a disaster for us to lose now."

Our conversation settled down as the ref blew his whistle and brought the ball back out to the center of the court. Buffy immediately started providing commentary as Quentin started with the ball, Reed bringing it down the court and trying to find a teammate to pass it to. Simms, the smallest member of the Jefferson squad, swooped in out of nowhere, completely catching Reed off guard and knocking the ball out of his hands before the tall blond could even make it to the three-point line. Before I knew it, TJ had the ball and Jefferson was back in control.

I felt myself relax onto the hard plastic seat of the bleachers. Andi was right. So long as things continued the way they were going, Jefferson was in the clear, and I would get to deal with a happy TJ. At the other end of the court, I watched as the ball was passed from one light-blue jersey to another, as TJ and his teammates tried to find an opening. Quentin changed up their defense, according to Buffy, and Simms and Munroe—our two highest scorers—couldn't get away from their cover. No matter how many times TJ passed one of them the ball, it always ended up back in his possession, and I could tell he was getting frustrated.

Finally, Simms almost lost the ball to Lester as the lanky brunet lunged at a pass back to TJ, and the captain was done. Instead of looking for an opening for his teammates, TJ planted his feet and squared himself to the basket, quickly letting the ball fly towards the basket.

Unfortunately, Reed was quicker.

I didn't even see him coming, and I don't think TJ did either. Before the ball had even left TJ's hands, Reed was jumping in front of him, hand raised above his head to swat the ball down. It would have been a brutal rejection regardless of the final result, but Reed didn't just slap the ball to the side like I'd seen TJ do in countless other games. He hit the ball straight back at the Jefferson captain's hand, following through to put his own strength behind it just as the ball reconnected with TJ's fingers.

He couldn't have aimed it better if he tried.

Surely he didn't try. Right?

I don't know if it was the ball, or if it was from Reed's hand colliding with TJ's fingers; maybe he just fell on it wrong after he stumbled backward and tripped over his own feet. I guess it doesn't really matter what the direct cause was. The result was the same either way—a heart-stopping scream of pain erupted from TJ's lips as he lay, writhing, on the ground.

There wasn't any blood, but something was definitely wrong. Coach Purcell gingerly unwrapped the bandage from TJ's fingers after Munroe assisted the pain-stricken captain to the side of the court, and then immediately sent one of TJ's benched teammates running from the gym.

I felt frozen in place as I watched the coach sit TJ onto a chair, shaking his head when the boy grimaced with every accidental jostle of his hand. Was I supposed to go down there? Why? What could I possibly do that would help? Buffy, Andi, and I watched silently as TJ tried to argue with his coach in between wincing and squeezing his own thigh. I could see now that his middle finger looked... wrong. It looked very wrong. Even still, the teen kept trying to stand up every few seconds, just to have his coach sternly push him back onto the folding chair.

"Do you think he's okay? He's not really going back into the game, is he?" I finally tore my eyes away from my injured crush to try to get a read from Buffy or Andi. They were much more likely to understand a sports injury than me. 

"That..." Buffy's voice sounded strained. Eventually, she too tore her eyes away from the scene on the court as TJ's teammate returned with nothing more than a plastic bag filled with ice. "It doesn't look great, Cy."

"Maybe you should go down there," Andi leaned over and squeezed my hand, which I was surprised to find I'd been wringing nervously for the past minute. "You might be able to calm him down."

"I—me? I mean... right. Maybe, just... yeah." I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. TJ needed me. TJ needed me to be strong, so that I could help him. Time to stop freaking out, Goodman. I turned back to my friends. "Okay, I'm going—"

Another scream rang out through the auditorium. This one wasn't out of pain, though. It was out of frustration. And it was accompanied by the sound of a folding chair being thrown against the bleachers.

I whipped my head around just in time to see TJ stomping away from his coach and the now empty space where he'd been sitting. A chair was lying on the floor a few feet away, and Coach Purcell looked like he was about to yell after the injured captain. But he stopped himself short, shaking his head and turning to take in the state of the rest of his uncomfortable-looking team instead. The sound of the gym doors flying open and then slamming shut echoed through the auditorium, making me realize just how quiet everything had become in the last few seconds.

Everything was completely still; despite the voices in my head yelling at me to 'do something,' the silence felt impossible to break.

Except, apparently, by the Quentin coach, who just wanted the ref to get the game back on already.

"Cyrus, you have to go after him," Andi insisted as noise started filling the gym once again. "I don't think he's gonna talk to anyone else."

I was already standing up before she even finished her sentence.

"Text us if you need anything," Buffy grabbed my arm as I stepped past her, giving it a reassuring squeeze as I glanced back. I'm sure she could see the incredible amount of stress I felt roiling in my stomach. She looked almost as worried as I felt sick. "We'll stay here until you let us know what's going on, okay?"

"Thanks, guys. I'm... I've gotta go."

And then I was pushing through the gym doors, trying to decide which way TJ had gone.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

It wasn't too hard to find where TJ ended up. Just had to follow the path of overturned trash cans and torn down posters, and X marks the spot.

The sun hadn't fully set by the time I found the other boy, but with the oppressively dark cloud cover, it might as well have been night. Through the glass doors, I could see TJ standing alone outside the south exit of the school, but in the darkness, a true winter chill had settled over Shadyside. Stepping outside would be like stepping into an industrial strength freezer, except with stronger winds. And yet, despite the freezing temperatures, my crush was standing out there in a sweaty jersey and nothing else, staring at a wall as if immenent hypothermia was the farthest thing from his mind. Dang it. As much as I hated the cold, there was no way I could give up just because of some freezing gusts.

TJ didn't even turn to look as I forced myself out of the warmth of the school and began walking towards him, pulling my hoodie as tightly around me as the oversized garment allowed. My pulse jumped into overdrive as I saw the other boy shift, but it was only to kick at the stone of the wall he was resting his forehead against. Within a few seconds, I was within speaking distance—just in time to realize I had no idea what to do next. What in the world was I supposed to say in a situation like this?

Sorry about the finger? Sorry about the game?

"What do you want, Cyrus?" The other boy's voice was muffled by the wall as he continued to face away from me. I opened my mouth to respond but all that came out was a lame squeak. I felt like my throat was being choked off by a combination of nerves and empathy, keeping me from figuring out what to say. I wanted to help but it's not like anything I could say would actually fix the problem.

"If you're here to scold me, or tell me I'm an idiot, I already know that, okay?" TJ kicked at the wall again, harder this time, before finally turning to face me. "I really don't want to hear it from you."

His face was a mess of splotchy red cheeks and sweat, and his breathing was ragged. His damp hair stuck up in all directions as he ran his uninjured hand through it for what must have been the twentieth time, and his eyes as he stared down at me were an intense mixture of pissed-off and... disappointed. It was obvious he was still in pain—a lot of pain—but it was just as obvious that he was doing everything he could pretend he wasn’t.

I was so incredibly worried for him.

And I still didn't know what to say.

But—and this is how you know I'm smitten—when I saw his face, my nerves started to settle. Just a little. Just like always, the confusing things started to seem A bit more clear.

"It's pretty cold out here," I said, not looking directly at TJ as I let out a large puff of fog from my mouth. The breath was illuminated orange by an old street light, providing concrete evidence to support my incredibly obvious statement. It's not like TJ, dressed only in a sweat-drenched jersey and basketball shorts, wasn't already visibly shaking. "If I give you my jacket, will you tell me what's on your mind?"

"That's my jacket anyway," TJ muttered, giving the ground a lame kick. “My favorite one, by the way.” Some of the intensity—the venom—was already gone from his voice, and I felt comfortable enough to finally look him in the eye and offer a smile.

"Nah, it stopped being your jacket a while ago," I explained, walking over until I was standing directly in front of the taller boy. "But I'll lend it to you if you want to talk."

"Then you'll just be freezing instead of me. That's stupid."

"I'm not the one covered in sweat," I pointed out, already unzipping my hoodie despite TJ's protests. "I'll survive."

A gust of wind blew past us just as I pulled the jacket off my arms as if to remind me that while I'd survive, I wouldn't be happy. Still, I forced the bundle of frayed red-and-blue warmth against TJ's chest. He was going to learn to accept my kindness whether he wanted to or not.

"You're ridiculous," TJ grumbled. He stared at me for a few seconds, but I refused to stand down—just pushing the bundle of cloth against his chest over and over until he relented and accepted the hoodie.

"Only because I care," I grinned, trying to delay the shivering that I knew would soon be unavoidable. Why the hell is Shadyside so cold!

"So... what?" the blonde asked after he had pulled on the jacket and zipped it all the way up to his neck. "Is this when you tell me that I need to go apologize to my coach and try to clean up my mess? Because I’m perfectly aware of that already, thanks."

"Nope," I shrugged. "I was mostly hoping that this is when you tell me what's on your mind. That was a pretty big blow up in there. I want to make sure you're okay."

"Whatever. It's stupid..."

"Anything that can make you throw a chair probably isn't just stupid," I offered. "You may want people to think you have a short fuse, but I know you better than that. You'd only blow up like that if it was something really important to you. So... something going on?"

Another silence fell as TJ leaned back against the wall and looked up to stare at the sky. Without saying anything, I joined him, feeling the cold brick press against my shoulders as I took in the dark-gray blanket of clouds above us. 

"Maybe. I dunno," TJ sighed and glanced down at his injured finger. With his other hand, he gingerly squeezed his palm before letting both hands fall to his sides and returning to his examination of the clouds. "It's probably still stupid anyway."

"Well..." I felt my throat go a little dry as an idea popped into my head. A stupid idea. But maybe a good idea? I just wanted to make sure TJ understood he could trust me, and my mind happily pointed out that one way to do that was with simple physical contact. And, well... TJ's uninjured hand was just hanging at his side. Right there next to me.

It was probably a stupid idea.

But I was gonna stop overthinking things, right? Or was that supposed to start later?

"You could always try me," I offered, swallowing down my flaring anxiety and reaching over until my hand met his. It felt good. It felt warm. When he didn’t pull away, I let my fingers wiggle in the gaps between his much longer ones, gave my crush’s hand a gentle squeeze, and tried not to freak out. "I'm a really good listener. Almost as good as I am at ranting."

I leaned back against the wall and waited. Waited for the disgust. Waited for him to yank his hand away. Waited for something. After terrifying seconds passed with no response, I noticed TJ's head swivel out of the corner of my eye—I felt more than saw as he looked at me, looked down at our clasped hands, and then turned back to look at the sky. Without saying a word, his fingers gently returned the squeeze.

And just like that, we were just two boys holding hands.

"Coach said I couldn't play anymore..." TJ started, still staring up at the clouds. "It felt like he was telling me that I'd failed. I wasn't going to help our team win. I don't even get to be the reason we lost. It was like I was about to become a... like a non-entity, as soon as he put me on the bench. It freaking sucked. I couldn't let that happen. I needed... I needed him to know that he couldn't take me out of the game."

I thought about responding with meaningless platitudes, saying things I thought might cheer him up and let me see him smile. But that just felt wrong. That wasn't the kind of relationship we had. I wanted to be truthful.

"You're hurt, TJ. It wouldn't have been safe to let you keep playing."

"I've played while injured before. Why's this time any different." I could hear the tone of TJ's voice changing, morphing from cold and angry, to thick and wet and sad as he spoke.

"I think your finger might be broken this time. That’s not just a simple injury—you could make it worse. Don't get mad, but... I'm actually glad he told you that you couldn't play anymore. If you'd gone back on the court I don't think I would've been able to watch. I would've been too scared for your health."

"I know how to take care of myself, Underdog," TJ sighed. I squeezed his hand again and he squeezed mine back immediately. "... But I don't want to make you worried. I just—I think I... have you ever staked too much of your pride on one thing?"

"Pride's not really my sin of choice," I smiled up at the sky. "I think gluttony is more my thing. Or maybe sloth."

"I dunno, after being on the receiving end of it, wrath might be a good fit for you too." I heard a weak chuckle come from the boy next to me. An especially strong gust of wind blew around us and, losing the last of my self-control, I shifted until I was close enough to absorb some of the body heat from my crush. Our arms pinned between us, I tried to wedge myself between TJ and the wall.

"Jeez, Cyrus, are you okay? Let's... let's go inside."

"No! I'll be fine. Just... I don't want to stop talking," I insisted, trying to force down the shivers crawling up my spine. "You were saying something about pride?"

"Uh... Crap, okay. Right," TJ, now flustered, turned back to the courtyard and tried to compose himself. "I just... crap, okay. So... yeah. I guess I cared even more about the stupid rivalry thing that I thought. When Coach said I couldn't... couldn't play, I felt like I was disappointing the team, and the school, and you, and my mom, and my dad... And me too, I guess. I wanted to prove that I could be the reason we beat Quentin. That I could beat Quentin. That I could beat Reed, and... and I just screwed it all up because of a stupid freaking finger. It’s so freakin’ frustrating, and... yeah." The other boy sagged against the wall, even as I tried to huddle even closer.

"TJ, there’s no reason you can’t be proud of what happened on that court. We weren't just beating Quentin, we were killing them! Because of you! That's your leadership, your training that made that happen." I tried not to let my voice get too excited, but it was tough to hide the passion behind my words. I really wanted TJ to understand that he didn't need to prove anything. "Your injury is the only way Reed and them even have a chance to beat us tonight. You're that important."

“None of that matters if I’m not actually playing, Underdog," TJ's voice filled with sadness as he looked down, kicking at the ground again. "And once this game's over, none of it's gonna matter anyway. There's no way Coach is letting me come back to the team after that."

"That... might be true," I agreed, feeling my voice choke up a little bit. TJ wasn't just upset. He was scared—even if he would never admit it—that he'd ruined a lot more than a single game. That he’d ruined everything in a moment of anger. I understood that fear. "But it might not. We won't know until we go back there and find out."

"Just... crap. Yeah, I know, it's—I can't face them right now. I can't watch this game happen if I'm not... in it. I mean, what am I going to do if we lose again? Because I fucked up. I can just hear what my Dad’s gonna say. Some bull about how I shouldn't... I dunno. Shouldn't have embarrassed myself for a game we'd never win anyway."

Would his dad really say something like that? Would his Mom? I couldn't imagine parents saying something like that to their kid. Just hearing that TJ expected his dad to react like that filled my head with thousands of worried questions.

But they would have to wait.

"Then we'll stay out here. Or we'll go somewhere else. Whatever you want," I squeezed his hand again. "And we can talk about anything you want to talk about, it doesn't have to be this serious stuff."

The other boy continued to stare at the ground, silent as the night fell deeper around us. I was starting to wonder if maybe I had said something wrong when he finally turned to face me. For just a second, he met my eyes before quickly turning away, looking almost embarrassed as he started again.

"Can we, um... can—just... what were you and Reed talking about?" Despite his practiced, disinterested tone, I felt a gentle rhythmic tug on my hand. While looking anywhere but at my face, TJ was rocking back and forth on his feet—just a small, subtle nervous habit. "I mean, you don't—you don't have to tell me, it's just, I saw you before the game, and, y'know, I saw him give you his number, and..." TJ coughed and shook his head, "nevermind, that's stupid. Let's just—"

"He wanted me to make a sign for him. To cheer him on," I offered, squeezing the other boy’s hand. "He was... being really weird. Insisted on exchanging numbers so I could go to one of his games, but... that was it. I don't even know why he cared." In the back of my head, a part of my brain started firing overtime, attempting to decipher TJ's body language and word choice. There was something about the way he'd asked about Reed that seemed... different. He almost seemed...

"Oh, um... that's—that's cool. That's it? That’s cool. Are you, uh, gonna make one for him?" TJ still wouldn't meet my eyes, but the rocking had stopped. I leaned in a little closer, thankful for the extra warmth.

"I told him I would, but honestly it was just to be nice," I explained, slowly. "I felt like if I tried to say no, he would have followed me around non-stop until I agreed."

"Yeah," TJ scoffed. "That sounds like Reed."

"So why do you ask?" I dipped my head so that I could catch a glimpse of TJ's eyes. Was I mistaken, or was there more of a blush on his cheeks than there had been just a few minutes ago.

"Oh, um... It's, y'know, it's nothing. Reed was just—it was just stupid trash talk. He, I dunno, maybe he said that you were, um, going out with him after the game? Like, I guess, to dinner? And... yeah, I just, y'know wanted to make sure we were still, like, you and I, were gonna..."

As TJ stuttered through his explanation, the blush on his cheeks got more and more pronounced. Especially once he finally looked up and met my eyes. His face was so red he practically glowed, even in the dim light.

Oh.

Oh my gosh.

TJ...

He was jealous!

He was jealous because... Reed. He thought Reed...

He was jealous because he—

TJ likes me. TJ Kippen likes me. He actually likes me. Buffy's not crazy. I'm not crazy. All these moments, all these hugs, all the supportive words and openness? It was all real. I wasn't just... deluding myself into a pleasant fantasy. Because TJ liked me!

What. The.

Fuck! 

Do I do with that information?

And yes! This... this is definitely one of those times where I think swearing is appropriate!

The words started spilling from my mouth before I could think anything through. "Do you, um... do you want to go to dinner? With me?" My brain continued on from TJ's last point before I could come up with something smarter to say. I'm sure there were millions of smarter things I could have gone with. But I didn't, so...

"Yea—Yes! Um, I mean," TJ coughed, looking off the to the side and lowering his voice. “I mean, we're all going to The Spoon, right? The team and—"

"No."

No. Absolutely not. I refused to let us get so... close, and then have it all fall back to the stupid ‘what did he really mean’ routine. Not now that we've held hands. Not now that I know he was jealous over me. Not now that...

It was time to give up on the questions and make the answer obvious. To both of us.

"Wait, what?"

"That's not what I meant when I asked if you wanted to go to dinner," I forced out. There was a fire in my belly now—not of anger, just of pure, unadulterated, eagerness. It burnt up the nerves and fear and doubt that had been clouding my brain and blocking my words and making me feel sick. It was filling me entirely on the inside, and I didn't know how much longer I could hold it in.

"Then what, um... what did you mean?" TJ asked. Anxiety laced his voice but he was still looking at me. Meeting my eyes. Trusting me. I could see confusion, but also hope, and nerves, and happiness all dancing behind those eyes. Those beautiful stormy eyes.

"I'm going to do something now," even I could hear the giddy energy behind my voice. I could only wonder what I sounded like to TJ. "And hopefully it will be enough to answer that question."

Actions seemed much simpler than words.

Slowly, gently, I untangled my hand from TJ's. Immediately, I missed the warmth but I had a much more important goal in mind. Without looking away from the other boy’s face, I carefully brought my hands up and rested them on his chest, right under the pull strings from the hood. As I hesitantly gripped the loose fabric of his—my? our?—jacket, I heard his breath hitch, but I refused to let that spark any anxiety back into my brain.

"What are you going to do?" TJ's voice was quiet. Unbelieving. If I wasn't mere inches away from him, I doubt I would have been able to make out his words at all.

"Something that one of us should have done days ago." I swallowed, giving him time to pull away. Despite my best efforts, the voice in my head returned—my anxiety yelling at me, loud and clear. I watched silently as TJ's eyes flickered over my face, dancing from my eyes, to my lips, to my cheeks, and back again. The voice yelled at me that this was a bad idea. That this was my last chance to back out. That I should take that chance to run away. TJ didn't want this. TJ didn't want me.

But it was time for that voice to shut up.

"What does...?" TJ whispered, not making any moves to retreat as my hands carefully reached up to grip the neck of the hoodie; leverage which I used to pull myself up on my toes.

"I'm going to force the issue."

When my lips pressed against TJ's for the first time, I didn't see fireworks. I wasn't preoccupied with my lips being chapped, or him smelling like sweat, or anything like that. My brain didn't explode, and my heart didn't die. When I kissed—well and truly kissed—TJ Kippen for the first time, it was like the world went quiet. We became the only two things that existed. In that moment, as I first pressed myself against the surprisingly soft lips of my crush, I felt calm. At peace.

This was right.

And then TJ's lips pushed back against mine, reciprocating my the kiss, reciprocating my feelings, and the whole world rushed back to me at once. Everything snapped back into existence, filling me up and surrounding me as TJ's arms wrapped themselves carefully around my waist. His hands trailed a line of fire across my back as he held me up, held me tight to his chest. The sounds, the lights, the colors, they all popped into my head at once—and that's when I saw fireworks. White hot and passionate red, they streaked all over my body, everywhere TJ was pressed against me. It was amazing, and overwhelming, and I never wanted it to end. I wanted more.

That...

That is what it felt like to kiss TJ Kippen for the first time.

And when we broke apart, TJ didn't let go of my waist, and I didn't let go of his jacket, and I could tell from the look of wonder on his face that he had just experienced something very much the same as I had. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from that flushed, astonished face until I felt a single, piercing point of wet and cold land on my nose.

“It’s snowing,” I grinned, tearing my eyes away from his awestruck smile to look up at the clouds. A gentle flutter of white specks danced in the wind above us, slowly making their way to the ground.

“We should probably get you inside,” I looked back down at my... crush? Boyfriend? We would have to talk about that, eventually, but for the moment it was enough to just stand there. Together. “Before you freeze to death.”

“Yeah,” I nodded, feeling a shiver race through my body as if on cue. “I’d like that. That would be an unfortunate way for tonight to end.”

Neither of us made any attempts to move. If anything, TJ pulled me even tighter to his chest. We just smiled at each other over my stupid joke, and relished the feeling of being together. It was ridiculous and I was freezing, but it was perfect.

"So... dinner?" I asked, trying to keep my teeth from chattering.

"Yeah," TJ responded, an impossibly big smile still plastered on his face. "I’d like that. I’d like that a lot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you. So much. Thank you for reading this story. For sitting through over 70k words. For delays and random schedules. Thank you for all your comments, all your kudos, your subscriptions and bookmarks. I feel so loved by this fandom, it's amazing. You're all amazing. I really hope this ending was worth it for you.


	21. Epilogue: Just... Thanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, everyone.

It’s not that I didn’t understand what Buffy was going through. The problem was that I did. All too well.

Which really sucked for her, because that meant I knew exactly how to mess with her.

“Boy,” I made sure to lace my voice with fake concern, “you must be really nervous about meeting Walker’s friends tomorrow. It’s a good thing you’re so great at making first impressions.”

“Oh, shut up,” Buffy directed a glare in my direction, but I could tell I’d planted a seed of doubt. Was she good at first impressions? I had no idea, but now the question would be stuck in her mind. “It’s not like I’ve never met them. We’ve just never hung out before.”

“Well, that’s good, then,” I grinned, leaning back against the fake-leather booth of The Spoon. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. Especially since, where are you going again? The arcade? That’s definitely not somewhere one of your big personality flaws might pop up, is it?”

“I don’t understand your question,” Buffy made a hilarious show of putting on an overly happy tone through her clenched teeth. “And I won’t respond to it.”

“Ooh, denial. Yet another classic Driscoll move. Trying to get it all out of your system before you make a fool of yourself tomorrow? Or was that one especially for me?”

“Oh my god. Why am I even here with you right now?” Buffy pressed her forehead against the table, muffling her voice. “Am I in hell?”

“Because we’re waiting on our boyfriends“—just saying the word still sent a little shiver down my spine. Boyfriend. It was hard to believe— “to get here for our double date. And because today is the last day you have to pay up on the milkshake bet.”

“I’m still mad about that bullshit too,” Buffy looked back up to send me another glare. I just smiled, the biggest, brightest one I could muster. Getting on her nerves was pretty much my favorite activity, and this week had been like being a kid in a candy store. “You’ve literally drained my savings on a technicality.”

“Well, you know what they say. Don’t bet what you can’t afford lose.”

“Your wisdom is greatly appreciated,” Buffy’s droll tone was accompanied by an impressive eye-roll. “I’ll have to remember that the next time I try to cheer up a despairing friend.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you made a bad bet with Cyrus.”

“No, TJ, it’s not. But it is your fault that you didn’t say the words ‘I am bisexual’ to him until two days ago! You’ve been dating for a week! How did that not come up!” Buffy rubbed at her eyes as I watched the frustration build.

It was glorious.

“Hey, you’re the one who chose to bet on me ‘coming out.’ You should know better than to try to predict my actions. I tend to defy expectations.” Buffy groaned, louder this time, and returned her forehead to the tabletop. “If it makes you feel better, you were almost right. I totally was planning on coming out to him after the game last week. He just… beat me to the punch. It didn’t seem too important after that.”

“Can you just shut up now? At least until Cyrus gets here. I would like that a lot.”

I tapped my splinted finger against the table, pretending to consider her request for a few minutes. I still wasn’t used to the metal brace holding my middle finger straight, but it was fun to use it for dramatic effect.

“No, but I will agree to a truce.”

“A truce? As in… what—we finally learn to live in harmony? That doesn’t sound like the TJ Kippen I know and tolerate. I’m skeptical that’s even possible.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I rolled my eyes. “Nothing that impossible. Just no snark for, like, two sentences. Five, tops. Then we can go back to pretending we hate each other.”

“Oh, it’s not pretend.”

“Shut up, you love me,” I smirked, reaching over to poke her in the arm. I knew I was literally poking the bear, but seeing her eye twitch was too much fun. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be letting me date your best friend.”

“I’m not letting you do anything. Cyrus is a big boy, he can make his own decisions. Or—in this case—mistakes. But you’ll be lucky if I let you live if you do something to hurt him.”

“Yes, you’ve already threatened me. I’m very scared of you. You know I won’t hurt him. Can we just get to the truce now?”

“Fine. Whatever. Five sentences. No snarky interruptions. Starting now.”

I took a deep breath, calming my heart down from the fun of bantering with Buffy. “Cyrus told me how much of a help you were when he didn’t know how to handle his crush. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you, so, y’know… thanks. Thanks for putting Cyrus’ happiness above your own. And, well, between that and the whole muffin thing, you’re pretty much responsible for making our relationship possible. So yeah, thank you. I’ll try to make sure you don’t regret it too much.”

“That was… very nice, TJ. It was six sentences, but it was still very nice.” Buffy sounded surprised to be saying that. Which, yeah, I got that. I was sorta surprised I said it myself.

“Yeah, well, we both know numbers aren’t my strong suit,” I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my heart calm. “I’m serious though. Just don’t try to get me to repeat any of that on camera.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Buffy smirked. It was always—understandably, because… come on—tense when it was just the two of us. In general, we both avoided those situations like the plague. But hearing her respond like that made me just a little more comfortable being around her without Cyrus. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting that, but… thanks for saying it. And… you’re welcome. I mean it. Just, please. Don’t screw this up.”

The little bell above the door jingled, signaling the entrance of a small boy wearing a collared shirt decorated with… penguins, I think? I looked over and immediately couldn’t help the smile that grew on my face as I watched my favorite person in the world trip over the threshold of the diner. As he corrected himself, my boyfriend’s dark brown eyes caught sight of us and lit with joy. An impressive smile spread across his face and he headed our way almost tripping one more time as he passed by a waiter.

“Don’t worry,” I said, scooting over to make room for Cyrus in the booth next to me, “I wont.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe it’s over. Well, this story’s over. Maybe there will be a next one...

**Author's Note:**

> Check our my new tumblr: tyrusmwm! 
> 
> Let me know what you think of this story! And if you drop me a prompt, I may even turn it into a story!
> 
> And hey, if I’m ever lucky enough that Joshua Rush takes the time to read this: Thank You! Thanks for Cyrus and thanks for being awesome!
> 
> Heads up, I go back and re-edit chapters all the time. The changes are mostly small and not plot altering, but I think they make the whole reading experience much better! So go back and give it all another read!


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